Unspoken Rule
by JuHuaTai
Summary: Ace hadn't meant to come across that little scene, but now that he did, he can't get it out of his mind. Only, this little rabbit hole goes much deeper than it seems, and soon, he found himself entangled in something way out of his depth [WARNING: Past Rape (Not between pairing), Graphic Sexual Content, Non-Con Elements(Not between pairing)][More Warning in Every Foreword]
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING: Explicit sexual content that includes someone in the main pairing but not the main pairing itself, General sexual content, Accidental voyeurism, Voyeurism (not an accident), Rather explicit, consensual gangbang, and Themes of implied past rape mentioned, not described.**

You: Please actually work on the fics that you got and stop making new ones.

Me: *Still typing this* lol no

* * *

The very first time Ace laid eyes on _him_ , with blue wings spread wide and with the sun shining brightly behind him, creating some sort of a halo behind his golden tresses, he thought he had seen an angel. An avenging angle with a very painful kick, but an angel nonetheless.

He's not a very poetic person - he hardly read book as it is - but even then, laying down in a heap of his own limbs and with a bruised pride, he wished then that he could think of another word to think of that man other than beautiful. Those wings burned in reminisce of his own fire, the colour of the bright sea instead of the setting sun like his, and perhaps it was his newly acquired affinity that enhanced his attraction, but he simply cannot look away.

Marco the Phoenix, a mythical zoan. He's sure that such a sight could only exist in myths after all.

But that sight from months ago, though still memorable in its own right, was nothing compare to Marco right now.

He hadn't meant to be down here, not when the party in honour of his and the Spade Pirates' induction into the Whitebeard Pirates was still held upstairs, but the bathroom nearest to the party site was full with drunken people queueing, and he could hardly hold back his own bladder so he had chosen the long way around and picked one of the furthest away bathroom, nearly on the other end of the ship. Just when he was sure he was on his way back, he heard a suspicious thumping sound from behind one of the storage doors, and checked out of curiousity.

Ace had expected to see an item falling or maybe even a drunken straggler. He hadn't expected to see two naked writhing bodies in the middle of the near empty room, skins shining in sweat under the dim moonlight that peered in from the small window above them. And even unexpected still, he recognized one of the men just from those golden locks, and the moment he found out that he was right, unknown heat pooled in the pit in his stomach.

There Marco was, half-laying on top of a creaking barrel, head tossed back in gratification and lips uttering endless sensual moans, as the much, much larger man on top of him moved frantically between his spread legs. His hands, those hands Ace knew could transform into beautiful wings scratched onto the thick skin of his partner, creating a pale streak on tan skin. Strong arms held on to his muscled hips, bringing him down to meet with the rhythm that the larger man had set, creating that lewd slapping skin that has now reverberated on Ace's skin.

"Commander," the large man groaned, tossing his head back as he picked up the pace of his pistoning hips. It was such a formal way to address your sexual partner, and yet it was uttered with such adoration. He bend down, burying his face in the crook of Marco's neck as he let his hands trailed down from the zoan's hips to his thighs, "Commander," he called out again, breathless, "Oh, Commander, you feel so good,"

Grey orbs followed closely as large, meaty hands, scarred from handling heavy weaponry on the daily basis gingerly grasp onto strong thighs, pulling it close to himself. Then, with a grunt, he pulled those thighs to frame his massive torso, and suddenly his pace was on a whole new level.

Instantly, Marco's eyes flew widely open, a high pitched mewl piercing through the vigorous wet slapping that filled the entire room. Unconsciously, Ace let out a gasp, feeling the pool on his belly intensifying, and he let out another gasp when he realized that those blown wide eyes has caught sight of him.

Ace froze, feet rooted to the ground and a chill running down his spine. He's been caught. He's been caught watching Marco and another crewmate having sex, he's been caught and he hadn't walked away yet—

But as he tried to form an apology on his petrified tongue, he was stopped the moment he caught sight of a smirk curling on the blond man's face.

The crewmate once again let out a guttural moan, slamming into the wanton body underneath him at full force that Ace could see Marco's eyes widening even more, "Ungh, Commander…,"

"Again,"

At that whispered moan, the crewmate's pace faltered as he looked down, bugged eyes and full of desire, "C-commander?"

Marco reached up, pulling himself slightly upright by holding on to the beefy shoulders of his partner, "Again, don't stop," he moaned, the amount of need in Marco's voice sent shivers down Ace's skin, legs shaking as if he was the recipient of that order, "Please, i'm so close, don't stop. It felt so good," it didn't escape Ace's notice that Marco's eyes flickered towards the door, towards _Ace,_ as he muttered those last words, breathy and sensual, like a caress against one's ear.

Ace's own eyes was caught in those sex-hazed, mischievous blue ones, unable to look away, knocking out all of the air in his lungs.

Those eyes never left even as the robust crewmate suddenly hoisted Marco's smaller body. Ace's legs shook even further when he caught sight of the size of the man's cock, already glistening and covered in pre-cum, his eyes raptly watching the way that entire length disappeared into Marco's willing body, right in between the two pale globes partially concealed by the crewmate's large grabby hands, each thrust resulting in a breathy sigh and a throaty moan coming out of Marco's bruised lips, red from being bitten on too many times.

The entire sight was hypnotizing, mesmerizing, and as the crewmate came with a feral roar, his seed bursting and dripping out of the stretched hole he was nestled in, Ace was glad of the echoes inside of the storage room that concealed his own choked gasp, just moments before he realized his own pants were suspiciously wet.

"Oh, oh gods, Commander Marco. That was… that was just…," the still nameless crewmate announced, grinning widely, just as Ace finally let himself slid down to the floor, his legs unable to support his own weight. He watched through his own hazy eyes as the man sets Marco back down on top of the barrel he had laid on, chest heaving and grinning widely with the look of pure adoration and worship in his eyes. As he finally seems to gather himself, he leaned his head down slowly, his face almost disappearing from Ace's sight from behind Marco's tussled hair.

But then, Marco looked away, and the voice that spoke was far too even, nothing like the one he had heard to be in throes of passion before, "You should get back upstairs, sounds like the party hasn't ended yet,"

Still panting and filled with confusion, Ace watched as the crewmate's face fell dejectedly, looking so hurt that even though he barely understood what's going on, Ace actually felt sympathy for him, "But," he protested, his tone almost begging, yet when Marco didn't budge, he lowered his gaze, lips quivering as if he was a child denied his favorite candy instead of a seasoned pirate, "I… I understand, Commander,"

The crewmate began fixing himself, his movement lethargic, and through the entire process, Ace could see the way he kept glancing at Marco's still form, as if expecting the blond to turn around and acknowledge him. Once he finally puts on the last of his garments and Marco kept quiet, he walked towards the door with a dispirited sway in his every step, so much that he even missed Ace by the door, who couldn't get away fast enough.

Ace watched as the man kept walking and eventually disappearing, his shoulder quivering slightly just before he was out of sight and he thought he could've heard a faint sob coming from the end of the hallway.

"Speaking of upstairs," Marco's voice sounded from inside the room, loud enough that it almost making Ace jump from where he sat, "Shouldn't be somewhere right now, rookie?"

"I… I-i.. I d-didn't mean… I didn't mean to—"

An amused laughter quieted Ace's pathetic attempt to apologize, and slowly, using the wall behind him, he pushed himself upwards, grimacing at the very telltale wetness on the front of his underwear. He can't believe it, he hadn't even touched himself, and yet he… he really….

When he glanced back inside of the room, Marco was looking over his shoulder, hand running through his sex-tussled hair and an amused smile on his lips the moment his and Ace's eyes met, "Hmm, i really hope you didn't. But even if you do," he grinned a little wider, mischievously, tongue jutting out in between pearly white teeth mockingly, "Glad to see that you're enjoying that little show,"

Ace squeaked and pressed his hands in front of his damp crotch. And then immediately regretting it when he both felt the sticky cum spreading even more on his skin and pants, and realizing that he had just showed Marco that he was correct.

The older man laugh, a sound full of hilarity, and what indignance that was in Ace over being an object of ridicule died a quick death when he saw the blond sliding down from his perch on the barrel, sending rivulets of white substance dripping down from between his ass down to his thighs. Then, as if it wasn't enough, Marco suddenly bent down, and Ace felt his heart stuttering when he saw the rest of those cum droplets drooling out from the stretched and rosy pucker.

"I know i just said that and all, but i don't really do a free show, you know?"

Another embarrassed squeak escaped Ace, and he quickly squeezed his eyes shut, bowing down as deeply as he could, "I'm so sorry! I'll be on my way now!" and without another word, quickly race out to the direction he knew best: His own barrack.

Back inside of the still ajar storage room, Marco shook his head, still smiling, "What a cute kid,"

* * *

If there is one thing that Ace hated more than anything right now is that he has to sleep in the same room as 3 other people now. Well, not that he has his own bedroom in his old ship, but back then, he never had the need to jerk off at least 3 times every night.

Even though a week has passed, but the memory of his accidental voyeurism still remaining so fresh as if it it's still happening in front of him. Just about every time he closed his eyes, he could see the way Marco's hair spread like a halo over his head, the scratch mark he left on that crewmate's shoulder, and with every deep breath that Ace took, trying to control himself, all he could hear was the pleading moans that fell from the blond's supple lips.

Worse still, the moment his desire couldn't be contained and Ace's hand found itself wrapped around his flushed cock, he would imagine himself being in that crewmate's place, his own body looming over Marco's pliant form, thrusting into that tight heat, letting his lips trail down that flushed skin, feeling those strong thighs around his hips and the older man's pants on his ears.

It's embarrassing just how quickly he would come just from the mere glimpse of that vision alone, and how bad he was at shutting himself up. There's been too many close calls, and right now, Ace really, really couldn't take it. He's never been this sexually frustrated before in his life. Hell, he's not even sure he's ever _been_ sexually frustrated before.

"Hey Thatch, does… does this ship has a rule against sleeping with a crew member?"

In a hindsight, maybe he should've picked a better time to ask that sort of question. He certainly should've waited until Thatch was finished with his mouthful of Bitter Root soup, because now, instead of being consumed, the entirety of that spoonful ended up on Kingdew's face.

'Thatch, what the actual fuck— Augh! My eyes! It burns! It freakin' burns!"

Even as everyone around the poor commander stood up and frantically offered him cloths to dab the soup away from his eyes, Thatch's entire attention was on Ace, eyes owlish and mouth opened wide in shock, "Ace! You're like 2 years old, what are you doing having a sexual attraction?!"

"I'm 18!"

"Oh, you're a still fetus, you're not old enough to even feel puppy love, let alone wanting to do the dirty,"

"Goddamnit, Thatch, can you just answer the question?!"

The pompadoured chef's lips twisted from side to side, brows furrowed in an exaggerated thoughtful expression, "I dunno, i still look at you like my little baby brother, i don't feel like telling you the sacred rules of nightly activity here just yet. Hell, i didn't think you'd ask for, i don't know, another decade or so, when you're actually a grown up,"

Impatient, Ace grounded his teeth, glaring at the very obvious teasing, "Thatch…,"

The older man cackled, looping an arm around the younger's shoulder, "Alright, alright, you are at that randy age, i guess i should make sure you're doing things right," he hummed, scratching his nose and remaining oblivious to the fact that poor Kingdew being carted away to the infirmary was his fault to begin with, "Well, there's nothing against having a relationship on board, sexual or romantic, just as long as you know your boundaries and knows to keep your business to yourself and the entire thing is consensual,"

Sounds simple enough, "Huh, okay. That's it?"

"Well yeah, there's nothing special, it's sex, we all handle it differently. I mean, some have lovers on different ports, some has friends with benefits, there's several actual couples between us, and some others, uh," he chuckled, almost nervously so, "Some others just... deal with it in a really, really peculiar way,"

Before Ace could ask, he was suddenly jostled by the arm on his shoulder, "Well, now that i'm done talking," he exclaimed, wiggling his brows, "Now's your turn. Come on, who is it?"

Ace cocked his head, "Who's what?"

"Come on, how dense do you think i am? You didn't just ask that question out of the blue, someone caught your eyes, didn't they? Ooh, i missed being your age, just the smell of pheromones in the air—"

"Ew, that sounds gross,"

"—Hush, or i'll call you a baby again. Come on, spill, baby Ace, who caught our resident hothead's attention? Who managed to tickle your pickle—"

"Again, ew,"

"—I swear, you really are a baby. Stop dodging the question. Come on, who you got in mind to do the devil's tango with?"

A flash of golden abruptly cuts off Ace's reply - which, really, is just to tell Thatch off - and the moment he found the source of his distraction, Ace's mouth goes dry.

Being the First Division Commander, Marco would often appear around the deck to check on the new recruit's progress, but at least during those appearances, Ace could be ready and avert his gaze someplace else. He wasn't prepared for the man himself to pass the table in front of him, nose buried in the newspaper he had in one hand while sipping from the cup of coffee held in the other, dressed in his usual, open shirted attire.

His breath was caught in his throat as the blonde passed by, and he could only let go once the man finally walked away, not even once looking up from the newspaper.

Ace took in a shaky breath, recognizing the heated sensation in his belly when his eyes fell on those clothed waist and thighs.

"Oh, oof, oh ho ho, Ace," Thatch's voice startled him out of his reverie, and Ace turned to see an odd cross between a grimace and a grin on the chef's face, "No, no, no, no, my baby boy. You're uh, you're _definitely_ not ready for that one. Any other people in this ship i will help you with, but that one's… that one's a very, very special case,"

He knew he was caught, but it was the mortification that blooms inside of him, as if he was afraid that Thatch could also tell _what_ caused him to get so curious, "W-what, i— I didn't say anything,"

A single finger was wagged in front of his face, "Oh no, my dear sweet summer child, you don't need to say anything. You think you're the only person in this room looking?" Ace didn't see it until Thatch mentioned it but, yeah, he has a point. Just from the 2 tables in front of this one, he caught at least 5 to 6 people trailing after Marco's every step, eyes full of intent. A part of Ace wondered if he had been watching so obviously, and that's why Thatch had picked it up.

"Look," the man next to him sigh again, pulling back the arm around Ace's shoulder and using it to support his body as he hunched over the table, gaze contemplative. It's such an odd shift in behaviour that Ace couldn't help but straightening his back, suddenly feeling like he needed to listen, "Far be it from me to ruin a kid's first crush. Or a kid's first wet dream, whichever is correct with you,"

"Ugh, Thatch," he said with only a faint sense of annoyance, mostly because he himself didn't know the actual answer to that.

"You know how i mention that some people on this ship has a very peculiar way of dealing with their uh, physical need? Well, he's that 'some people' i was talking about," the man paused, and added with a lower volume, "Or, well, some could argue that _he's_ the peculiar way that people used… Oh gods, i shouldn't be saying that, that's so not right. Look, here's the thing," Thatch swivelled on his seat, showing the now much more serious expression on his face, "I don't think you're… prepared to handle that,"

Ace turned his gaze from Thatch and to where he last saw Marco, who was now talking to fellow commander Jozu and Vista in what seems to be a serious discussion. His brows were furrowed in concentration and his lips was pulled in a grim line, the same lips that was bitten until it was bruised, from where wanton moans has escaped from, sending a shiver down Ace's spine—

"Let me just put it this way," Thatch's voice broke through his thoughts again, which Ace was glad for because he could feel the discomfort growing inside of his pants, thankfully hidden right underneath the table, "When i say that there is no rule about sleeping around and having sexual relation on Moby, that was true. Except when you're dealing with that one. It's actually pretty simple to remember, but throughout the years, i found that _a lot_ of people find it hard to follow through. "

"What's the rule?" the dark haired logia winced when he noticed how breathless he sounded, and carefully shifted his gaze to Thatch, hoping that the man didn't notice.

He didn't but the serious expression hadn't gone away, and that actually made Ace worried. "You can have his body, but you can never have his heart," he finally uttered, in a tone that sounded much too grave for this topic of conversation. It made Ace feel a little uneasy, "Forgetting this little rule can be dangerous. Everyone who did will only end up getting hurt, one way or another,"

* * *

"I was wondering when you'll finally come around,"

Was the first greeting that Ace got the moment the First Division Commander's quarters creaked open, and immediately his entire face turned hot, as if he had set them on fire, "You… you were expecting me?" he managed to rush out, feeling his face turning even redder once he caught sight of the lopsided smile on Marco's face.

The blond shrugged, "I had an inkling, but who knows, maybe i scared you off," he took a step back and pulled the door open further, gesturing inside of his room, "Come on, you didn't knock on my door this late at night just to stand in front of it, did you?"

Hesitantly, Ace stepped inside, feeling oddly meek and out of his element. Marco's room was neat, with a desk facing the wall, with stacks and stacks of papers on top of it, while the bed was right behind it, tucked and straightened.

A laughter from behind him startled Ace again, "You young people sure don't beat around the bush, do you?" he heard Marco quipped, before the zoan was suddenly by his side, arms crossed, "This has got to be the first time someone actually knocked on my door and instantly had their eyes on the bed. Usually they ask for permission first,"

"What?" Ace said dumbly, before the older man's words finally registered completely in his mind. Instantly, he flailed his arms, face turning red once more, "N-no! No, no, i wasn't— I was just—"

His half-assed excuse was cut off by Marco's laughter, and the more he heard it, the more Ace noticed just how nice it sounded. It's such a playful chiming sound, and very pleasant to hear, "Ah, i usually don't find many who blushed as easily as you too,"

Wiht a low chuckle, the blond made his way to the bed and sat on the edge, eyes hooded, and there was a touch of sensuality in his smile, unlike the simple, playful one he had on earlier, "So," he said, head tilted coyly to the side and Ace gulped with how husky his voice sounded, "How do you want me, Ace?"

"H-how i—" the young logia could only stutter, before he swallowed his own spit, eyes blinking owlishly, "Want… huh?"

On the bed, Marco blinked, and whatever spell he seems to have casted on the atmosphere disappearing on that fraction of a second.

Then he snorted, which grew to small chuckles and finally became and all out guffaw, complete with convulsing stomach and tears on the corners of his eyes. All the while Ace stood petrified in front of him, arms uselessly on his side and face once again turning red as a cooked lobster.

"I'm sorry," the older devil fruit user wheezed out in between his laughter, arms crossed in front of his stomach, "I'm so sorry, i wasn't making fun of you, Ace, i just…," Yet despite his words, he kept laughing, so much he even fell to his side on the bed, burying half of his face on the bed in what seems to be a futile attempt to muffle his laughter. A pitchy whine escaped Ace as he raised both hands to cover his face.

Why did he even come here tonight? He didn't even have a plan or anything, but he had been having another one of those 'recollections' and the two crewmate in his bedroom had decided to stay up late to finish their seemingly never ending game of Goldfish. He had been so sure on his way here, had felt like this way the only way to finally settle things down but now that he's right in front of Marco, he's suddenly lost for words, and just…

Ugh, so embarrassing.

"Hey," he felt a hand prying his own back, and from behind his palm, Ace saw Marco, still chuckling every now and then but seemingly having worked most of the hilarity out of his system. He was then pulled forward by his hands, stopping just as Marco sat back down on his bed, still holding on to Ace, "It's fine, everyone can be awkward once in a while. If you want, i can just show you,"

"S-show me?:

Marco smiled, no longer one of amusement but the same sultry one he had on before, "Lay down on the bed, make yourself comfortable,"

Ace did as he was told - and proudly noting that he only stumbled twice on his way to just lay down on his back on the bed - letting his head and back being supported by the headboard and pillow, while he used his arms to prop himself upwards, just to avoid feeling entirely vulnerable. As soon as he stopped moving, Marco suddenly climbed on top of him, legs straddling his hips and thighs with the older man standing on his knee.

In a slow movement, he took off his purple shirt, leaving him top bare, and with his hooded eyes trained on Ace's own, Marco started tugging his belt off, taking off each and every accessory attached on his person and tossing it on to the floor. Once he was done, he sat back down, ass brushing against the younger's half mast and making Ace yelp in surprise. Oh shit, he didn't even realize that he's that turned on already.

Not just him, even Marco looked caught off guard, though he gathered his composure a lot faster than Ace does. He grounded his hips down again, pressing against Ace's half hard erection, and once again, making the dark haired logia nearly jump off his skin, "Well, well, you're like this already just from me taking off my clothes? Ace, i'm actually flattered,"

With the grace of a feline, he caged Ace's chest with both of his arms, lowering his body just so there's barely any space between their chest. So close like this, Ace could feel the heat emanating from the blond, along with the faint scent of seawater that must've clung to everyone on board, "You know, you don't have to lay down and do nothing. You can touch me if you want," was whispered on his ear, sending a shiver down the younger's spine.

But he did as he was told. Reaching up, Ace could feel his shaky hands tracing every contour on Marco's chest and sides, feeling the hard muscles and jutting bones, relishing on the feeling of the same flesh he had always wanted to touch since that incident last week now underneath his finger tips. Just as he lets his hands maps around the body above him, Ace could hear small sighs coming from Marco with every tiny brush that he gave, every single sound seemingly lessening any hesitance he may have.

His newfound boldness didn't last long, however, when Marco suddenly grounded down against his erection again, his hips moving in a hypnotizing circular motion that drew a gasp from Ace's lips, "Now, which do you prefer?" Marco started in a hushed tone, "I can do all the work if you like, ride you like there's no tomorrow. I'd like to, actually, i'll give you a good show, make it memorable for you,"

Ace let out another gasp when Marco stopped his motion, halting any other stimulation when his entire body felt like he's yearning for it, "Or maybe you'd like me better on my back, the way you saw me last week. I remember how you looked at me, and this time, you get to be between my legs. I'll spread them so wide you'll see everything and you can do anything you like, it'll be much better than just watching from the door,"

The whimper that escaped his throat felt so pathetic in the face of such tantalizing offer, and yet, Ace found that he couldn't say anything else. His heart is hammering against his ribcage, his cock is beginning to hurt just from the strain and the lack of much needed contact he's just not getting, and Marco's words, oh, those words, is that what they call a dirty talk? He felt light headed just imagining it all, to see Marco either on top of him, impaled on to his cock or splayed right in front of him like he always would in dreams, only this time, this would be real.

It was all too much. It was all too much that Ace could barely utter a word, only staring and panting with desire coursing through him.

But then, the spell broke when Marco suddenly let out another laugh, almost like a giggle.

"I can't," he said, still chuckling and shaking his head, "I'm sorry, Ace, I can't. This is… this is so wrong,"

"H-huh?"

"Look at you," the blonde gestured vaguely, "You're so turned on you can barely talk, i highly doubt you'd last long enough for me to start doing anything. You're just so," the smile dimmed down, looking almost sad as he trailed one hand to Ace's cheek, framing the side of his face gently, "You're just so pure. It's not right for me to do this,"

Just as Marco began to move, presumably to climb off of him, Ace shot up, frantic, "B-but! I… I still need…,"

"Don't worry, i know what you need," Marco told him, lips curling, "And besides, i still have to reward your bravery for coming here in the first place,"

Instead of moving off from Ace like the younger had expected him to, Marco crawled down on all fours, just until he was right above Ace's strained pants. The grin that appeared on his lips was almost feral, and the moment that look was aimed at Ace, he could feel his heart jumping in anticipation. With his teeth, Marco pulled down his zipper and shucking off the button on his pants, before pulling both it and his boxers down, still using his teeth. Ace's heart leapt when his cock sprung from underneath the tight constraints of his undergarments, the tip already leaking, and the sides damp from both sweat and drips of pre-cum.

Ace let out a strangled moan, eyes wide as Marco leaned back down and licked him from the base to the tip, doing it over and over until the entirety of his flushed manhood was coated in saliva. The teasing heat of his tongue had made even pressure even more unbearable, so much that Ace was so close to just outright begging him.

He didn't have to. Marco leaned down and engulfed his entire cock within the tight, velvety walls of his mouth, and Ace came with a shout, spasm running through his body.

For a few seconds, all he could hear was the rushing of his own blood in his ears and his body twitching, the suddenness of his relief coming to a shock to every nerve in his body. That was a lot more intense than anything he had ever done with only the help of his hands, so much that he could see dots along the edges of his periphery.

A muffled laughter finally registered as his consciousness drifted back to earth. Ace looked up through hazy eyes to see Marco still sitting right where he was earlier, cheeks ballooned and brows furrowed, and on the corner of his lips was a trickle of something white and thick. Realization dawned on Ace far too slowly to actually recognized what he was seeing, but by the time he finally did, Marco had swallowed noisily, even licking his lips from corner to corner.

Despite only just coming, Ace could feel the familiar heat gathering in his stomach.

"Huh, kinda sweet," the blond zoan remarked with a chuckle, which only grew louder as Ace felt his face heating up again, "Much like you. That's cute,"

"I'm not cute,"

The laugh Marco gave was full of amusement, "If you say so, Ace. If you say so,"

* * *

He hadn't even taken a full 3 step away from the door when the memory of Marco swallowing him whole flashed through his mind, and Ace found himself filled with desire once more. So much, in fact, that his pants has become constricting once more.

Ace finished himself in the nearest, thankfully empty bathroom stall, the vision of Marco's tongue licking him and his seductive gaze bringing him to climax in an embarrassingly low amount of strokes.

It's not enough, it's really not enough.

* * *

There must be way worse obsession than this, Ace reason to himself in his head, as he waited within the veil of the night for Marco to cross by the hallway from his room. He's not even sure the man does plan to leave his room and have another rendevouz somewhere, but it's not like he could ask and after yesterday, he didn't think he wanted to face Marco just yet. Yesterday had left him a lot more confused and intrigued, and like the first time he stumbled into this whole mess, Ace wanted to watch first, wanted to see what he could've done differently.

It took nearly 2 hours, but as soon as the sky turns darker and the torches and lanterns becomes the only source of light throughout the ship, the door leading to Marco's bedroom creaked open and out come the man himself.

Doing anything in covert was never Ace's forte - he was more of a break the front entrance and storm in kind of person - yet through the long winding road that Marco has taken, he had somehow succeeded in making sure that he remains completely unnoticed within the shadows. Soon, he watched as the man he's trailing after stopped in front of what Ace was sure would be one of larger storage rooms, and waited just long enough to make sure no one will pass by this area too before he approached the door.

The logia gave one last cursory look around the hall until he was sure no one would pass by this area at this time of the night, and after bracing himself, slowly turned the knob around.

Unlike the minimal illumination out in the halls, there's barely any at all inside of the storage room, if it wasn't for what looked like a single lantern that someone must've brought from the outside. That source of light was half hidden behind the sturdy build of two men, and just the sight of one more person than usual already sent waves of confusion in his head.

Filled with curiousity still, Ace pushed the door he peeked through even further, just big enough that it'll let his head poke inside and he was taken back to see that not only two, but aside from Marco himself, there was actually 5 other men, 1 which Ace recognized to be the supervisor that looked over his and the other rookies' training this morning. Nobody made a move, everyone was just standing in place, and for a second, Ace thought he might be mistaken. There's obviously more than one people here, maybe this can't be about sex, but probably a late night meeting of sort—

Just as the thought passed him, one of the men on the far right moved behind Marco and began to undress the commander.

Ace found himself taken back. Wait, what?

Before he can even get over that, one of them man let out a spoke gruffly, his words muffled by the distance and Marco was on his knees right in front of said man, hands moving deftly on the front of his pants that soon hits the floor. Most of what happened was covered by Marco's shoulder and the men that began to close in, but Ace knew enough what's happening, especially when Marco's head began to move in a bobbing motion.

What happened afterwards was like a blur of motions filled with muffled moans and grunts. Someone had pulled off Marco's pants, making him the first to be left bare in the room, and another man, one that Ace noted to be the biggest amongst all 6, tossed what looks like to be a bottle of sorts to the one standing right next to him before he approached Marco from behind, his hand moving up and down along his noticeably lubed erect cock. Ace's breath caught in his throat when said man thrusted his hips forward, causing Marco's speed to falter and for him to make a choked sound.

Initially, the man behind Marco moved slowly, his hands holding on to the Commander's hips in a gentle caress. The man being blown tossed his head backwards, eyes fluttering close, obviously enjoying the ministration on his organ. The other three men has yet to move from their spot, but Ace could see from where he was that one of them had pulled his own cock out, one hand holding the bottle he was given earlier and the other lathering his entire length with glistening substance.

Before long, a long grunt filled the room, and there was a burst of white in front of Marco's face. The man who just made a frantic gesture, his voice calling out, "Shit, i'm sorry, Commander," reverberated through the room, but Marco simply shook his head.

The moment that one moved away, however, suddenly the one fucking Marco from behind pulled him backward by his chest, his hips stilling while he manouvered both his and the zoan's body around. In the end, the man had himself sitting on his haunches, knees pressing against the floor as he lifted the commander by the back of his knees, half-seated on his elevated lap. Ace let out a whimper when he sees how much the position exposed Marco, his arms looping on the back of the large man's neck while between his spread legs, he could see the blond's own arousal as well as the massive cock plunged deep inside of his straining hole.

As the man behind him jerked his hips again, Marco tossed his head back to his shoulder and let out a shuddering moan, one that sent a familiar tingle down Ace's pants. He panted with every thrust, loud enough that the noise echoed through the walls, and with a whine, he lolled his head forward, half lidded eyes focused on the man that stood in his line of sight, "It's fine," Ace heard him say, "It'll… it'll fit. I know my limits,"

Finally, the man he was addressing moved, kneeling in the same position as the man behind Marco, and just as Ace wondered what he could be doing, he pulled out his lubricated cock and pushed in to the already stretched hole, pressing against his friend's to fit into their commander.

Ace fell on to his knee, his own erection painfully straining in his pants to show arousal but there was nothing but horror in his eyes. What are… what are they…?!

Marco's head lolled back again with a piercing scream, and the man in front of him jolted, the cock that was in to its tip slowly being pulled back. Yet before he could get to far, Ace recognized Marco's voice, panting, quivering and rough, commanding, "Don't! Don't pull out, please, just push it in. I want it in me, i can take it,"

There was clear hesitation in the man's body movement, but in the end he complied, pushing in inch by inch, slowly and surely. The crewmate behind Marco had stopped his own movement, his eyes intently watching the commander's face with absolute concentration.

When the second cock truly went in, fully sheathed into Marco's beyond stretched hole, the look on the zoan's face, mouth completely lax and eyes rolled back to his skull with sweat dripping down his cheeks, it spoke of both pain and unbearable pleasure. Ace reached down into his own underwear, panting vigorously and moaning only by his hand grazing against the top of his tent.

The noises from inside of the room was drowned for the logia by the rushing of his own blood and his own discreet pants and moans. While the two men inside of Marco began to find their rhythm, the last two in the room approached the group, their own erection lacking the glisten of lubrication. Terror briefly gripped Ace's chest, already fearing that Marco would insist to add them inside of him as well, but as if their movement were coordinated, the two merely stand on either side of Marco, still with their cock out.

It took a while for Marco's eyes to flicker open again, and once it did, he untangled his arms from behind his carrier's nape and held both cocks in each hands, stroking them gently at first from the tip to the base, before he took turn sucking on each one.

Ace exploded in his pants with a sharp mewl, and his head spun so heavily, he could hardly care if anyone even notice he's out here.

Burst of blue and yellow flame began flickering around Marco's entrance, a sign that there was an injury, causing the two men around him to falter, "Keep going," he barked, already sounding breathless and exhausted, "K-keep going, don't… don't worry about that, just fuck me,"

"Commander Marco, those flames means you're—"

"I know— Aah! I know what the damned— The damned flames means! I'll be fine, i'll be fine, just keep going, come one, please, come in me, use me, please,"

The worried crewmate's face twisted, and he stopped briefly just to adjust his position, standing straight on his knees and hands joining his _nakama's_ underneath the commander's raised knees. Though concealed in darkness, Ace could see the stern frown on his face as he sneered, "Fine, as you wish, _Commander Marco_ ,"

"Alty," the first man that walked away after he came from a blowjob suddenly raised his voice, his tone full of warning, "What are you going to—"

His warning came to late when the man, Alty, suddenly started thrusting mercilessly into Marco, causing the man behind Marco to grunt as he almost stumble and lose his footing while Marco _screamed._

"Alty! Fuck, stop it! You'll hurt him!"

 _"Yes! Yes, oh gods, please! Please! Aah, I-i'm— I'm cumming!"_

Marco came, almost explosively so all over his tattooed chest and belly, and the minute he does, so does everyone around him in a near simultaneous manner. The two who stood on Marco's either side released their seed from either side, splattering the heaving commander's chest, as Alty and the one behind the blond came inside of him, drenching the floor right underneath in a puddle of cum.

For a second, just like the moment before they all started, nobody made a move.

"Fuck," Alty was the one who spoke, his voice anguished, "Fuck, Commander Marco, i didn't… i'm sorry, i didn't mean to—"

But Marco only shook his head, even though the movement was barely there.

The clean up was done in silence, and Ace saw the man who held Marco up from behind making his way over to the commander, who sat quietly in the middle of the room, legs sideways, body hunching over the floor and head bowed, concealing most of his face from the rest, "Commander," he called out softly, or as softly as one with a gruff voice as his could, "I'll carry you back to your room,"

"No," Marco replied back, head still bowed low, "It's fine, you can all go. Thank you for today,"

Another silence settled between the 5 men, before 4 finally made their way to the door. While Ace scrambled to quickly hide away before he was caught, he heard Alty raising his voice, deep regret in his every word and almost sounding like he was in the verge of tears, "Commander, i swear, i didn't mean to be so— I… I got so angry, i….,"

"It's fine," the reply was fade, exhausted but still holding some level of reassurance, "I wanted you to be. That was great, Alty. Thank you,"

Any other exchange beyond that was lost to Ace as he quickly made his way to the end of the hall, hiding behind the wall on the corner, just in time to hear the door he had been eavesdropping from creaked open, followed by several sets of footsteps. The door was shut close a moment later, and Ace peeked from behind the wall he hid from, catching sight of the 5 men glancing to each other in uncertainty.

"I didn't mean to," Alty said again, eyes wildly glancing from one man to another, "I swear, i didn't mean to hurt Commander Marco, he's just… his words just got to me—"

"Exactly. But it's what he wanted,"

"Why the fuck does he even want that?! Fuck, the gangbang i can understand, even the DP-ing was fucking great, but why… why did he…,"

"You know what it means coming to this in the first place, Alty," the gruff man scolded, "You can have his body, but not his heart. It's just the sex we're supposed to be concerned about, we can't think of anything else, especially not helping him,"

"Then fuck this, Manfred! I came in at first because Commander Marco's offering some relief and he's a great fuck, but i can't do this anymore! That guy's got problems and he needs help instead of being the entire ship's fucking cumbucket! This! None of this fucking thing is healthy!"

"You think we didn't know that?" Manfred retorted, fist balled in a threatening manner, "How long have you been with us, huh? Couple of years? I've known him for 15. I've seen the shit he went through, and how he was afterwards. This is the best we can do," he took a deep shuddering breath, lips pursed tightly until the rim was white, "But like Commander Jozu said once, this is a much better alternative. At least this way we know what the hell he's doing to himself,"

When the men finally leave, Ace sat on the corner, knees curled into himself and mind racing uncontrollably.

* * *

The storage room was a lot colder and darker without any source of light, but even without one, Ace could still find the person he was looking for. Marco was still sat in the same position he was left in, bare as the day he was born, only this time, he had one hand curled on his stomach as he panted.

Ace stopped on his tracks when he heard the older man let out a shaky laugh, but it was nothing chiming like the one he heard the day before. This laughter was hollow and painful to hear, cutting into his heart, "Fuck, they came a lot inside. It's going to be a pain to clean," he continues to laugh, the sound slowly fading away into pained pants, "Who am i kidding? I'm never going to be clean. Never, ever going to be clean again,"

The arm that was holding him up suddenly sways, "Never… ever…,"

Marco suddenly crumpled down with a resounding thud.

Ace's heart dropped to his stomach.

"Marco!"

* * *

Um. Yeah.

I'm sorry.


	2. Chapter 2

**IMPORTANT WARNING: Graphic sexual content and imagery, graphic depiction of torture and rape outcome, near mental breakdown, actual mental breakdown, strong non-con situation near the very end.**

On a lesser serious warning, a long ass conversation because i'm a shit writer.

You have been warned.

* * *

As it turns out, Marco had simply passed out, much to Ace's relief.

Ace sighed, squeezing water out of the damp towel he picked up from the commander's room, before using it to wipe down the rest of the mess on Marco's barely moving chest. Bringing the older back to his room had been quite the challenge, but Ace couldn't just leave him out cold in that storage on his own, and even after putting him back here, he couldn't just walk away. It's a good thing that the corridor that held the commanders' quarters had their own bathroom installed, so Ace would only risk running to either Commander Jozu, Thatch, Vista, Blamenco and Rakuyo, and there's hardly a stir from any of their quarters.

Once he was sure he did a decent job cleaning out the older man's torso, he moved his glance to the man's barely spread legs, where he knew there would a lot more to clean.

But should he?

The dark haired logia bit his lower lips, plunging one hand into the medium sized bucket he had brought along and lighting up his fire to boil the now lukewarm water. He already gone and decided to take the extra mile of cleaning Marco's body, he might as well clean the rest of him. With a glance to Marco's still form, Ace stifled a sigh, carrying the bucket with him and sat by the end of the bed, just right next to the commander's leg. He climbed up to get a better look and felt his breath caught in his throat just from a quick glance.

Marco's torso had been a mess, sure, but his bottom part was on a whole new level. The underside of his rear was covered in thick layers of partially dried cum, with some of the white substance still drooling out of his obscenely gaping anus, and it took Ace a while to notice that some of the different coloured blotches wasn't caused by the light, there really was signs of bleeding. Ace recalled the sight of the Phoenix zoan's fire appearing in the middle of penetration and found a semblance of relief in knowing that wherever the bleeding might've been, it should be closed by now.

But just because he was relieved about the lack of open wound doesn't mean Ace didn't still feel the thrill of unease coiling in his stomach. Even knowing he was hurt to the point of drawing blood, Marco had urged those men to continue on, practically begging them to ignore his injuries and even found release in the aggravation. Though he never really participating in one, Ace had heard of receiving sexual gratification from pain, but this… the way those men talked about Marco, how scared the one called Alty had been with what he had done made it sound like this was something else.

Glancing up, Ace noted that Marco hardly stirred during his ministration, his chest rising and lowering gently as if he was in a deep sleep and hair falling limply over his face, slightly damp from Ace's attempt to clean him before. Did he do this every night, whether it was with one person or several at the same time? Did he always send his partners away once they were done, like he had done the 2 times Ace had seen him? Does he cleaned himself after every nightly encounter? If he had passed out like today, did anyone ever find him and take care of him? Was this the first time he ever passed out after sex, probably from exhaustion? He couldn't imagine that… earlier had been all that easy to do.

The images from earlier started returning to his mind and caused a churning in his stomach. Ace wanted to slap himself, but he settled with busying his hands in squeezing the now much warmer water out of the cloth for another use.

He began wiping the stray spatter along those toned thighs, holding himself back from lingering and admiring the feel of strong muscles underneath his hand for far too long. Ace bit his lower lips, grimacing as he cleaned off every faded blood spatter as he narrowed down to the spot in between Marco's legs. The water inside of the bucket had turned into a milky translucent colour, but he didn't have much left to clean.

When his cloth-covered fingers brushed against the puckered, cum-stained hole, Ace felt his breath caught. He hated that even with all of his confusion and worry, there's still a flaring heat that blooms inside of his stomach the moment he pulled Marco's cheeks apart for an easier access and saw the entrance loosening so easily, widening even more.

He chalked it up to the fact that he had never been that close to anything so intimate before aside from his own, but even then, it was all for hygiene purpose, never with any sexual connotation on it. But many nights now, he had thought of Marco in no other context but sexual, and so close to having it too had it not been for his inexperience and hesitation that cost him the chance.

And yet, the same way flames of desire forcefully filled his mind, so does the cold touch of trepidation. It looked so.. fragile, damaged, used and abused.

His mind flashed to the conversation he overheard not an hour ago outside of the storage room, as well as Thatch's warning. Promiscuity is one thing, and Ace had learned with his old crew in the Spade Pirates just how normal it was in the life of a pirate who chases after the pleasures of freedom, but the way they put it made it sound like there was so much more to it. Sex, as he learned, should be fun, distracting, fulfilling for both - or any - party involved. Yet there was none of that in Alty's angered voice, in Manfred's strong rebuke, and he was not deaf to the sternness in Thatch's words.

And then there was Marco's last words. The words he uttered with so much pain in his voice right before he passed out.

 _I'm never going to be clean._

Taking a deep breath, Ace shook his head. He's not going to think about that now.

He reached over again, using the cloth to wipe away all of the stain when suddenly there was a lightning fast movement on the corner of his eyes and Ace felt blinding pain to his stomach.

Ace let out a startled yelp, one arm flying to his aching stomach and it took him a few seconds to notice that he was lying half on his back on the floor. Wincing, he opened his eyes, and the first sight that greeted him made Ace stop on his tracks.

On the bed, breathing heavily with the look of anger and pure _terror_ in his eyes was Marco, eyes wide and crazed. His stance was an aggressive one, ready to attack, yet the way he curled his body into himself was defensive, like he was ready to bolt at any time for his own safety. The moment their eyes met, it all melted away the blond's body slowly loosening its guard yet though not completely. His body was shaking like a leaf, Ace also realized, and the way he called out, "Ace? Is.. that you?" spoke of uncertainty and fear.

What did he have to be afraid about?

Holding back another wince as he stood up, Ace nodded. Judging by Marco's position, the pain on Ace's abdomen must've been caused by Marco's kick. Even without transforming, the man could kick as hard as an angry bull, "Y-yeah. Sorry, i was just— did i startle you? I was just cleaning.. well, you,"

At that confirmation, the rest of Marco's stiffness seems to go away, and the blond took a quivering deep breath, "I thought," he breathed, and it almost sounded like a sob, "I felt… I thought it was…,"

Hesitant of this new development, Ace called out, "Marco?"

Marco faced him again, slowly calming down with every deep breath. He then began to look around, confusion settling in his gaze, as if he had only realized now where he was, "I'm back in my room," he muttered, a sentence that seems more like a question than a statement. Sky blue eyes found the bucket of water on the floor just by the bed, shifting towards the cloth in Ace's hold and once again to Ace himself, and finally, he let out a huff, sounding almost exasperated, "I knew i felt someone else outside of the storage room,"

Ace gulped. Busted, "You— You felt… You knew i was outside?"

"More like i knew you were following me since i came out of my room," the zoan quirked his brow, and a smile grew on his face when Ace felt his face turning red, "Now why would you do that, hmm?"

"I uh," of all the times his eloquence left him, Ace wished it wasn't right now. But after everything he had seen, everything he had heard, suddenly, his initial motive for following Marco has left him, "Uh, well…,"

Light chuckling made him stop, and Ace lifted his head to see Marco shifting his position, sitting down on the bed with one leg outstretched and the other folded in, "I get it," he said, his smile curling into something much more meaningful, eyes hooded and knowing, "Not satisfied with the other night, are you? I didn't think so, for a kid your age,"

He moved on all fours then, crawling until he reached the end of the bed before reaching out to where Ace stood with one hand, motioning for him to get closer. Which Ace followed, as if in trance, already hypnotized by the taut lines of Marco's body, and when he was close enough, he felt the hand that held the washing cloth being pulled, making him follow suit. Smirking, Marco grabbed the cloth in his hand and tossed it away carelessly, and wherever it fell, it made a wet squelching noise that barely broke the rising tension in the room.

Ace grew hot, and he's not just talking about his face.

"You're really good at flattering me," Marco chuckled, the sound resonating deep underneath Ace's skin. The blonde latched their hands together, pulling Ace even closer, and he rose up on his knees, just tall enough that they're both face to face, "To think that such a virile young one like you is so interested in chasing after this old man, well, i'll be extremely ungrateful if i didn't give you what you want, right?"

Ace's heart began to hammer in his chest, so hard that he's pretty sure Marco could hear it, "U-uh…,"

Unlike before, Ace's hesitation and speechlessness wasn't replied with hilarity, but if possible, Marco's smile widen, and he couldn't understand how that little of a change could look so erotic. The blonde leaned forward, putting them so close their breath mingled in the same space, and unconsciously, Ace felt his hand in Marco's hold being directed someplace else, until they were placed on top of heated, slightly damp skin. Daring himself to look away, Ace felt his eyes widening when he saw that his hand was on Marco's naked waist, and it trailed down to the man's upper thighs.

"Finally made up your mind on how you want me?" was whispered sensually to his ear, making the logia shudder, "Did what you saw earlier gives you inspiration? You could've joined them, i wouldn't have minded," A hand started snaking up Ace's shirt, brushing against his own naked skin and making him jump, "Or maybe you didn't want to share? That's fine, i can give _all_ of my attention to you right now. Do you want me to suck you off again? Doesn't look like you need much more encouragement, but i don't mind,"

"W-wait,"

A kiss was placed on his jugular, and Ace couldn't help the little sigh that escaped him, "Hmm? How about it?" Marco asked again, and as he shifted again, Ace's hand on his hips strayed to his ass, grabbing the plump mound and making him mewl, "Aah, just straight to the point then? I'm okay with that too,"

The way the older man looked at him, like he was a prey made him gulp, "But, but you just… those guys, they…,"

"What about it?" Marco asked, brows raised, before his eyes lit up and his smile turned feral, "Oh, you mean how they were both inside of me? It's not the first time it happened. Was it your first time seeing something like that? Did you jerk off to it? Imagining yourself to be one of them? Or," he pressed another kiss on the side of Ace's neck, lips brushing against the logia's ear as he whispered, "Do you want to join in?"

The laugh that escaped the Marco was low, husky, and it did nothing to quell the thrumming in Ace's ear, "Oh, you'll wreck me. You're not so small yourself, Ace, you'll bring me to tears. But maybe you'll like that, ruining me, making me sob and beg because it hurts so much i don't think my Devil Fruit could even heal that, but you'll feel so good. They like that, you know, they like seeing me cry, seeing me break down over being stuffed, sometimes with their cocks, sometimes other things. I'll become a dirty mess, but it's okay, because i like it too,"

Ace pulled back, just enough that he could meet Marco's eyes, wanting him to slow down, to stop. This is starting to become uncomfortable, those words disturbed Ace more than it arouses him.

Only, something was different.

Marco's eyes weren't seductive, they were… they were _manic,_ abnormal, there's no other way to describe them. It was wrong. His smile was crooked and tight, almost like he forced them to be there. And as he spoke, his voice was shaky, breathy and _wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. Wrong._

It's like someone had doused him with cold water, and Ace felt his blood freezing within his veins, "Marco?"

But the zoan continued on as if he hadn't heard Ace speak at all, "Wouldn't you like that? The _great_ Marco the Phoenix, made into nothing more than a whimpering mess like a common whore. Whitebeard's commander brought down into nothing but a cock-hungry slut, a shame to his father and _nakama,_ just a toy to be used over and over, and he's not going to break, oh he won't break, but he'll always be dirty, used—"

"Marco, please, stop it! You're scaring me!"

Ace didn't mean to shout, he really didn't. But he couldn't hear a single more word, and he felt anxious and scared. Scared of that look on Marco's eyes and of his words, how he spoke them like he was under a spell, like none of the things he spewed was even his own words.

What is happening?

But in the second he shouted, it was like something had switched in Marco's brain. He stopped abruptly, eyes bugging out and his lips trembling, and Ace could feel his body starting to shake again the way they did when he first woke up, "Ace?" he gasped, and the way he looked at the younger was so foreign, like he couldn't recognize who Ace was or when he got here, even though they had been talking with each other for minutes now.

With a jerk, Marco pulled back, sitting back down on the bed, both of his arms gripping his sides tightly. He let out a shuddering breath, "Get out,"

For a second, Ace could only blink by this sudden turn of event. What… what had just happened? "But—"

"Please, Ace," Marco uttered again, the sob in voice unmistakable this time. The younger could feel his chest clenching at the sound, "Please, i need to be alone right now,"

As much as Ace wanted to argue - he didn't want to leave Marco alone, not when he looked like that - but something in the older man's tone stopped him from arguing. Without a word, he walked away to the door, hesitating and looking back before he twisted the door knob and opening the door, "Good night," he called out hollowly, and stepped outside.

The moment the door was closed again behind him, Ace's back hit the door and he slid down on the floor, knees weak and mind in turmoil.

But even through it, he knew he didn't miss the soft, heart wrenching sobs coming from inside of the bedroom.

* * *

Ace stayed in the dining room from the start of breakfast till the end of it, knowing he already missed that day's training. Not once he caught glimpse of Marco.

"Hey Thatch," he was answered by a distinct hum from the kitchen, just pass the counter he was leaning on. Once or twice, when Ace bothered to notice, he could see some 4th Division members eyeing him suspiciously, and those who carried ingredient for lunch even took a different route from where he was, as if afraid he might try and steal the food they carried. His appetite has grown some infamy in the kitchen after all, even though Ace never once purposefully stole food that's not offered before, "Can i ask you something?"

The commander looked up from the slice of meat fillet he was seasoning, his hands still expertly working even though he's not even looking at them anymore, "If this is about getting lunch early, as much as i like you Ace, i can't let the rest of the ship go hungry,"

"No," he only said plainly, and perhaps it was that lack of reaction on his part that made Thatch suddenly put his giant pepper grinder down, all attention now on him. When Thatch gestured for him to go on, Ace bit his lips, briefly checking his surrounding before he finally ask, "Did… did something happen to Marco a long time ago? Say, the last 15 years or so?"

Instantly, the curious expression on the chef's face grew dark, mouth pulled into a grimace as he shook his head, "Kid," he started tersely, before sighing, "Where did you even— I told you to leave it alone, didn't i?"

"No, you didn't,"

"No, i didn't," it sounded like a berating, but the way Thatch said it made it look like he was saying that to himself. And maybe he was, "Ace, there's things that you just didn't need to know or need to butt your big head in," this time, the scolding was definitely aimed at Ace, especially when the pompadoured chef looked at him so balefully, "And this? This is one of it. Stop asking, there, that's your warning, now don't say i didn't tell you to stay away again,"

"But Thatch—"

"What are you going to get out of knowing anyway?" Thatch suddenly lashed out and that caught Ace off guard. The months he had known the bubbly chef he had never even once raised his voice or had any other mood than jovial. But right now there was a sneer on his lips, and beyond the furious expression, he looked tortured, sorrowful. Taking a deep breath, he looked around to the rest of the kitchen, and if there had been anyone staring, they had all gone back to work.

Ace watched him took another deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was lowered, just barely his usual volume, "It was a fucked up story," he gritted out, "It was a fucked up situation that we could've stopped if we had been quicker but we weren't. And Marco had to pay the price to this day, and there was nothing we could do to help," The way he started working on his pepper grinder shows that the older man's mood had plummeted, as if he's channeling his emotion into his work, "What's the point of bringing up old wounds again?"

And that was that.

Ace nodded mechanically. Seconds later, he glanced up again, "Thatch?"

"What now?"

"Can i get some food?"

The chef raised a brow, "Ace, you already ate less than an hour ago. All 130 plates worth,"

"I know," the logia nodded, "It's not for me,"

* * *

The first series of knocks bore no result, but somehow Ace wasn't surprised. The second time he knocked, he quietly announced, "It's me. I…i brought food," hoping maybe it'll help him gain entrance. The third time he knocks remains the same, and after the fourth, Ace decided to sit down in front of the door, legs pulled to his chest and cooling plate of food on his side, "You should at least eat, you know," he tried to call out, "It's almost noon,"

With a sigh, he thumped his head back on the wooden material, "I know you're in there too. I haven't seen you anywhere on the ship,"

Still no response.

Ace slumped backwards even further.

He almost dozed off, the gentle sway of Moby's smooth sailing as well as the breeze that got into this section of the ship lulling him slowly and surely, when suddenly the door was pulled open none too gently, almost sending him falling and scrambling for hold. Ace turned around, and found himself staring up to Marco, his usual attire ruffled and hair mussed up, as if he had only just woken up.

For a moment, no one spoke.

"You're a persistent little thing, aren't you?" Marco greeted him flatly, voice hoarse but at least a lot firmer than the last time Ace saw him. He looked worn out and gaunt, and the way he looked at Ace was full of exasperation.

The logia wasn't deterred. He picked up the plate of food that he brought and stood up, offering it as though it wasn't clear why he was here in the first place.

Marco moved his gaze from Ace and to the plate, "I'm not hungry,"

"Well, you still have to eat,"

"Dinner,"

"Fine, then i'll wait here until then,"

The blond narrowed his eyes, obviously displeased by his insistence. Ace thrust the plate of food again in front of Marco, "Just finish half of it," he grounded, "Then i promise i'll leave you alone,"

Wordlessly, Marco glanced back down to the plate of food, and with a despondent sigh, he pushed the door wider, allowing Ace entrance. The dark haired male quickly entered, before the room's owner changed his mind.

Nothing has changed inside of the room since last night, so much that the bucket of water Ace left was still by the foot of Marco's bed. The bed itself was unmade, with the sheets disturbed, like someone had tossed and turned restlessly. Marco's clothes from last night, one that Ace had brought along when he carried the older back here was still in the same corner where he left them. Ace wondered if Marco had even left the bed since this morning, but based on his appearance, he probably didn't.

He walked over to set the plate on the work desk before moving away to lean on the side of the table, allowing Marco space to eat. Ace could hear the older man sigh again before he sat down, but instead of eating, he looked up to where Ace stood, eyes narrowed, "You aren't going to stand there and wait until i started eating, are you?"

Ace didn't reply. He simply crossed his arms, showing his resolve to wait.

And it worked. Marco picked up the spoon on the side of the plate, his hold limp but at least he's picking it up, and after a while, he began eating. Each portion didn't even reach half the spoon's size, and the food was hardly chewed and tasted before it was swallowed. Ace leaned his back against the wall, eyes scanning Marco's form. The zoan user seems paler than he was the night before, and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. He looked like the very definition of exhaustion, though he would guess not all of it came from physical exertion.

There's barely any dent on the plate when Marco placed his spoon down, and pushed the plate away, "I'm full,"

"No,"

"Ace—"

"You need to eat more than that. Half a plate, you promised,"

The gaze that Marco gave him was full of irate and fatigued, like he wished Ace was anywhere but in his room, "I don't need any of this, Ace,"

"You do,"

Marco turned his body to fully face Ace, scornfully saying, "You don't know what i needed," he gritted out, almost to the brink of showing a semblance of emotion since he opened his door to Ace, but he quickly regain that composure and spoke again, the disdain in his voice still present, "If this is still about the sex, there is no need for all of this. I'll let you fuck me right now—"

"I don't want to have sex with you!" Ace yelled, causing Marco to falter in his seat, shocked. As if that was such a foreign concept to him.

Then, a sardonic, bitter smile appeared on his lips, "Could've fooled me,"

And this time, it was Ace's return to be silenced, "Fine, so i did," he admitted, because what's the point of hiding it anymore. Marco knew he wanted him, and yet, "But that's not the only thing that matters to me,"

The look on Marco's face told Ace that he wasn't impressed by his answer. His reply reflected that even further with a biting tone, "As if there is anything else that mattered when it comes to _me_ ,"

Looking back, Ace didn't really know what pushed him to do it. Perhaps it was that he took Marco's words as a challenge, filling him with the need to prove the man wrong, or perhaps it was because just because he had been a hormonal young adult filled with both lust and uncontrollable emotion. It hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things as to what exactly moved him in the first place, because in the end, he still surged forward to grab hold of Marco's shoulders, and as a startled gasp that escaped the blond, he pressed their lips together.

Marco's lips was smooth, which was surprising until one remembered his Devil Fruit ability, and the insides of his mouth tasted strongly of the food Ace had brought for him. They were soft against Ace's own, warm, and unresponsive.

Completely unresponsive.

It didn't last for more than a couple of seconds, and a couple of seconds was enough for Ace to realize his own mistake when he felt the body underneath his hands trembling. He pulled back to see Marco staring at him with such an unreadable expression that it instantly caused any semblance of bravado leaving Ace.

Marco took a shaky breath, yet even through it, the contempt in his voice was clear as day, "Get out,"

Ace pulled his hands back as if he had been burned by something even hotter than his fire, "Marco, i… i was—"

"Get out!" the blond practically shrieked, causing Ace to instantly take several steps away, "Get out! Leave me alone!"

Without another word, Ace raced outside of the door. The very second he closed it behind him, he could hear something breaking right behind him and knew it had been aimed at him.

* * *

"Well, this is unusual,"

Blearily, Ace lifted his head from between his knees to the source of the voice, to find Thatch looming over him. The chef had an amicable, if rather curious expression on his face, and more importantly, a tray with a plate of food balanced in his other hand, "Dinner's almost over and Portgas D. 'Bottomless Pit' Ace isn't in the midst of the hungry crowd. No one in this ship ever goes hungry yet i have never seen an entire room full of grown men so glad they don't have to fear for their food portion ever in my life,"

Though Ace hardly gave a reaction, Thatch chuckled and took a seat right next to him. The logia didn't really know how he could be found when he deliberately hid himself away in the most secluded corner on the deck, but then again, he had always hid here during his brief streak to claim Pops' head. No one has ever approached him though, so he assumed that none was the wiser about where he would spend his time while planning their captain's assassination. Seems like he was wrong.

"Not as much as you're used to, but it's better than none. You want more, go to the kitchen yourself, we got plenty," he heard said next to him as a plate of boiled rice and curry was set in front of him, strong smell of spices immediately assaulting his sense. Usually, just at the mere sight of it would've automatically made him hungry, but right now, Ace barely cared. Seems rather ironic, considering his demands to Marco earlier.

When he doesn't take the plate immediately, he felt Thatch poking his side playfully. The rookie Whitebeard crew member turned his gaze to meet his superior's, whose grin disappeared the moment he saw the look on his face, "Hey, everything alright?"

Ace pursed his lips, and sniffed, " _You can have his body but not his heart_ ," he repeated resentfully, "I think i'm starting to understand what that rule really means,"

Unlike this morning, Thatch didn't blow up or berated him for bringing up the topic again. Instead, the chef sighed despondently, almost sympathetic, as he leaned back to the railings, "I told you not to get involved," It wasn't accusatory, at least, the way Thatch said it doesn't sound like he is even chastising Ace, "Marco's situation is… delicate, to say the least. Many thought they'll be able to handle it, some even thinking they'll be able to fix it," he sighed, and snorted weakly, "Not going to lie, i was one of the latter once upon a time,"

"I just wanted to understand," Ace finally said after a while, morose, "Cause i wasn't lying when i told him it really wasn't just about the sex for me,"

Silence descended between them. It was shattered by a clanking noise of the metal tray in Thatch's hold being put away on the floor, before the pompadoured chef fished into his pocket, rummaging around until he pulled out a box of half-empty cigarettes. He picked out one of the white sticks out, holding it in between his fingers before putting it right in front of Ace, "My lighter's out of fluid a couple of days ago and i haven't been able to find a replacement," he explained, wiggling one end of the cigarette, "If you light this up for me, i promise i'll stay and talk,"

One of Ace's finger produced a small ball of flame, which he held right underneath the tobacco rod, "I thought you said you're quitting?"

Thatch mumbled his gratitude once the cigarette was lit, placing it on his lips and taking in a deep breath before exhaling a puff of white smoke, "I started smoking to cope with stress. If i'm going to smoke again after promising to quit, then there's no better reason to do it then for talking about the thing that made me smoke in the first place,"

That already set a precedent on what was about to follow. As Thatch further slumped against the rails, Ace noticed the forlorn look on his eyes, that even as he gaze up to the starry skies, he was looking beyond that, to a time and place unreachable from here. Unconsciously, Ace moved closer.

"It was raining that day," The chef began, voice distant, "On the 6th day of the 7th month that Marco had been missing,"

He took another deep inhale from the smoke. It doesn't smell as strongly as any other cigarette Ace had ever encountered, and he remembered that Thatch was trying to quit and had mentioned that the one he's carrying around was one with less nicotine in them. Judging by the brief frown he gave to it, seems like he's wishing for something stronger, "You know, over the years, there's been a lot of pirates wanting to defeat Pops. Well, you'd know that," he glanced at Ace, a faint smile on his lips that immediately faded, "But unlike you, some of them had been the lowest of low, just a bunch of psychopaths who became pirates to wreck havoc because they could,"

It's not a concept Ace was unfamiliar with, he even had some run ins with those sorts before as the captain of Spade Pirates, "What happened?"

"There was this one crew that was really hellbent on taking down Pops. They targeted islands under our protection to provoke us," the pompadoured man shook his head, "They destroyed villages and islands, killed and tortured men, women, children and elderly without any consideration. And they deliberately chose the perfect timing to do it. This particular crew wasn't very big, and knowing that they'd lose on number alone, they'd attack whenever we were on our most vulnerable, possibly hoping to take us on little by little,"

A flick of ask fell to the ground, flickering briefly before dying. More of them fell the more Thatch gritted his teeth, grounding the cigarette filter in his mouth, "We were in hot waters with the marines - so much that my bounty jumped 390,000,000 belli in one day, can you believe it? - and on our other side, we managed to pissed off Kaido for messing with his territory. We were stretched thin as it is in order to protect ourselves, we can't afford to lose manpower to deal with another nuisance but Pops won't abandon the people he promised to protect,"

More ashes fell. There's a tear on the side of the cigar now, where Thatch had accidentally bit too hard, "That's when Marco, diplomatic, responsible, loyal and yet young with something to prove Marco came up with the idea of taking care of it by himself,"

With a shuddering breath, Thatch paused, taking the cigarette out of his mouth to flick away the burnt end. After a while, he caught sight of the tear and with a click of his tongue, snuff it out and reached into his pocket. But as he pulled out the same box as the one he had before, instead of pulling out a stick from it, he tossed it backwards, making the cigarette box fly off from the side of Moby and to the waters below. Ace's eyes followed the trajectory, and when he looked back, Thatch had another box out, this time a proper cigarette, the one he said he's quitting from.

"Thatch…,"

"Well, this is 30 days of cold turkey out of the goddamn window," he chuckled grimly, pulling one of the cigarettes out of the box and once again offering it to Ace. The fire logia hesitated briefly, but lit it up in the end. Thatch inhaled, eyes closed and looking to all as if he's savoring it, but to Ace, he only looked tortured and pained, "Hey," he said after another foggy exhale, "You listen to me carefully Ace. I'm telling you this because… fuck, i don't know, because you sound like you actually cared. And Marco needed someone who does, he always did,"

Ace had never seen Thatch like this. Gone was the cheery chef image, this man right now is haunted by what he was about to tell, the desperation in his voice so palpable, "You obviously cared too,"

A thin smile bloomed on the older man's face, but it was bitter, "But that doesn't mean i could help him. For 15 years, my guilt was stronger than my loyalty to my brother. And this isn't just me. Everyone," he gazed on to the depth of Moby, "Everyone who was there that day was in the same boat. And we all hated ourselves for that, for not being there when he needed us the most… and for leaving him forever out of our reach,"

He blew another puff of smoke, sighing, "After the matters with the marines and Kaido had passed, we still didn't hear a single news from Marco. We raced towards the island where he was supposed to be, but all we found was a charred remain of civilization. There wasn't a single clue as to where he was. He, along with the pirates, was just gone," the pompadoured commander placed the cigaretts back in between his lips, "We searched for him all over the 4 seas, any clue we can get on those goddamn pirates. Nothing was more important than finding Marco. Pops wouldn't rest for weeks, we were all gripped by fear for his life, and by the end of the 6th month, just fear for never knowing Marco's fate,"

Even knowing that 15 years later, Marco is still alive, there is still a cold, curling sense of unsettledness in the pit of Ace's stomach. He hated to think what the crew from then had to deal with during those long months, "What then?"

"One of our allies were attacked by those same pirates. Out of 300 people only one survived, and somehow this person knew of their hideout, said he overheard their conversation before he escaped,"

Thatch took another long drag, eyes fluttering close as he tilted his head skyward and blew the smoke. He leaned his head back on the rails, scoffing, "From every angle possible, it sounded like a trap. But we couldn't care less. We just wanted Marco back, and at that point, any news is good news,"

When he opened his eyes again, they were back to being distant, "The hideout was an island, somewhere in the far coasts in Paradise. When we arrived there, the first thing that greeted us was an ambush, and after we slaughtered them, there were bodies everywhere," he paused, swallowing, "They were all in different states of decay, from different ages, placed along the road like a macabre pathway that leads us to them. Maybe it was meant to unnerve us. Maybe they're just that sick in the head,"

Ace curled into himself, the horrors of that sight he could only imagine just from Thatch's disgusted grimace.

"We all took a different path, division by division, Marco's own thirsty for vengeance for their commander. Pops led that attack like an angry storm, crushing everything in sight, bellowing 'where is my son' over and over. I think out of all of us, Marco's disappearance had hit him the hardest. He always took everything that happened to his sons the hardest out of all of us,"

The chef gave a chuckle, voice cracking in the middle.

"That's why, Pops was the first one to find Marco,"

The cigarette trembled as Thatch's lips did before he took it away, and he tilted his head backwards even more as his eyes began to shine wetly. The veins on his neck and jaw contracted, stiffening, "They put him in the middle of the plaza, in the centre of that ghost town, for us to find. Tied and naked, lying in the pool of his own blood. There were injuries everywhere, cuts, burns, lesion, his legs, his weapon, they were _crushed_ , making sure he won't fight back. And with a seastone collar on his neck, they made sure he's not going to heal from that,"

Breathing heavily, Ace closed his own eyes, as if he could see the sight of it clearly and had to avert his gaze.

"But that's not all, oh no, no, that's not even _close_ to what those sick bastards had done to him in those _7 fucking months_ ," Thatch hissed angrily, and in the dim lighting in that corner, Ace finally caught sight of the first tear that fell, one that he didn't manage to hold back, "They tore him apart… down there. They…they raped him until he was mangled inside and out. The moment i unlocked the seastone collar, those wounds disappear, even to the deepest ones. And Marco… Marco was _awake the entire time_ ,"

Thatch wiped his face angrily, eyes red and he's no longer holding back his stream of tears, "He was still whispering with this broken little voice. _Please, stop this, no more._ He wouldn't react even as i called his name, after i told him everything was fine. He only stopped… he only stopped after we brought him back and the nurses puts him to sleep. Still, at night he would wake up screaming, he'll beg over and over again ' _please, stop this, no more_ ' to thin air, seeing something only he could," he glanced towards Ace, whose stomach now felt like it was twisted in dozen different way, "Do you know the worst part of that kind of pain is for someone like Marco?"

Ace couldn't make a proper response, not when his tongue felt like lead inside of his mouth, but evidently, Thatch wasn't looking for an answer, "His scars, even to the worst of his injuries disappeared the moment i unlocked his seastone collar. But nothing could erase the trauma he endured. It stays with him, inside of him, haunting him, and many times i saw him look down to himself and saw something that wasn't there, just a cycle of never ending nightmare,"

The chef shook his head, "For 7 months, he was stripped out of everything; his power, his freedom, his dignity, his sense of control, his _humanity._ And for the next 15 years, he will do anything to get them back,"

It was truly pathetic. He asked for this, he wanted to know, and he thought himself ready.

But as Ace quickly scrambled to the rails, puking out the bile that kept rising in his throat, he felt pathetic. Why is he the one crying? Why is he the one vomiting his guts out? He wasn't even there, he didn't even see what Thatch, Pops and everyone else had seen of Marco. And yet he still felt sick, he still felt like screaming.

 _—The great Marco the Phoenix, made into nothing more than a whimpering mess like a common whore. Whitebeard's commander brought down into nothing but a cock-hungry slut, a shame to his father and nakama, just a toy to be used over and over, and he's not going to break, oh he won't break, but he'll always be dirty, used—_

Even as he berated himself in his mind, he can't stop choking, he can't stop the hot tears that fell from his eyes.

A weak chuckle sounded underneath the dreadful sound of his whimper and heaving, "Let it all out, kid. I did that too, first time i saw him from right behind Pops," Thatch told him in consolation, "Just remembering it right now made me sick to my core,"

"Why did he—" a cough escaped Ace, and it tasted foul and rancid on his tongue, "Is that why he—"

He couldn't even bring himself to say it.

Thatch was quiet, the cigarette between his finger slowly burning, "He came after the commanders first. We're some of the people he knows best, the ones he trusted the most, and i think that was why we were his first choice. It didn't feel right, not after knowing what had been done to him, but he wouldn't relent. He needed it, he'll say, he wants that aspect of his life back, so," he swallowed, "So we agreed,"

Weakly, Ace leaned towards the rails, and when Thatch looked up again, he could see the bitter grimace on his lips, "Out of everyone he came to, i stayed the longest. I knew, from the very first night we spent together that he had lied to everyone. The words he said, the things he asked me to do— Fuck, just the way he looked, that wasn't Marco with me those nights, it was a… a phantom wearing his face. And yet i stayed, i did everything he wanted me to do because i hoped that one day, i'll bring him back for real. I just have to show him how it was again, just like he needed to adjust to normal life,"

A hissing sob, full of anger and self-hatred escaped the older man, "But the more i tried, the more he pushed me away. Everyone else stopped because they couldn't take it anymore, they couldn't bear seeing him, their brother like that, but me? I stopped because Marco wouldn't let me continue," he gasped wetly, voice unstable, "I pushed too hard, i know i did. But i just… i just want things to go back to the way it used to be,"

He gaze up to Ace, lips pressed thin, "You can have his body but not his heart. I was the first one who broke that rule, you know? It became more than just sex for me, and i made it personal. I failed to save him once, and now i wanted to save him from this, from himself. I couldn't. I couldn't and it destroyed me to this day," he shook his head mechanically, the smile on his lips bitter.

Ace's breath stuttered. His chest and stomach hurts now, and his eyes were beginning to sting, even though he didn't have any tears to shed.

"After us, it was strangers from just any port. Marco will disappear for days, and when he came back he'd look miserable, and i always suspected that the only reason he always came back uninjured was because of his Devil Fruit. We had to stop him after Jozu followed him once to make sure he was fine, only to find the stranger for that night had slipped something in his drink," Thatch huffed, nose stuffed and sniffling, "Like me, Jozu broke the rule after he decided to take on Marco himself. That man's body is made out of diamond, but his heart isn't that strong,"

Thatch brought the burning tobacco stick back to his mouth and took a deep and long drag. He turned again to Ace, a little, solemn smile on his face, "Many others have tried, you know. Some out of love, others.. others because they fell in love with him," the pompadoured man chuckled, hollow and painful, "Do you know how _disgustingly_ easy it was to fall in love for someone so broken, and to fall out of it once you realized you weren't strong enough to handle just how truly broken he was? I know. And i never forgave myself once for it,"

"Then that's not love," Ace found himself replying, and whatever the reason Thatch had to say it, it made something in Ace's stomach burn. It felt like an accusation, a rebuke for something that he didn't do, "That's not what… That's not why i…,"

In the face of his disjointed reply, Thatch only smiled. It was still sad, but it was also a touch fond, aimed at Ace, "No it wasn't. It was our ego, and for me, it was my guilt and the need to be responsible of that guilt," he took another drag of his cigarette, and breathed out a long train of white fog. It danced briefly in the air before they dissipated away, "But Marco didn't need a knight in shining armour. It's far too late for that,"

With one last drag, the cigarette was dropped on to the floor. It rolled innocently along the wooden planks, before Thatch's shoe came upon it, snuffing it out.

"I think he just needs someone to be there to take the pain away,"

* * *

Three times Ace had arrived in front of the door that separated the hall from Marco's quarter, and in all those 3 times, his motivation to be there seems to keep on changing. And yet, there was a sense of trepidation every time he stared into his own shadow on the wooden surface, bracing and mentally preparing himself to knock. The first two times he came here and had the door opened for him, whatever his intention was coming in, it never seemed to go the way he wanted it to be.

This third time he hoped it would be different.

With a deep breath, Ace huffed, willing all of his nervousness to leave him in that single exhale, and raised his hand to knock.

But before he could, he could hear something from the inside, a muffled crash and a loud thump.

The sound was enough to ring every alarm bell in Ace's brain, and without thinking, he slammed the door open, "Marco?!'

The first sight that greeted him, the source of the noise was from the bed, where Ace saw the man he recognized from the first night he caught sight of Marco's nightly dalliance, his massive bulk looming almost possessively over Marco, who he had pinned against the headboard.

Marco, whose eyes were blown wide, holding a frozen expression of terror, tear marks, old and new, still staining the side of his face. His lips were moving, faintly and rapidly, but there were no words coming out of him.

The zoan had his legs kicking, yet they only burst into flames before disappearing again in a wisp, as if he couldn't control his power properly. Even with all of his struggle, the crew mate proved to be stronger, and it didn't help that he pressed his entire weight on to Marco, effectively trapping him.

A rough grunt escaped the unknown crew member before he dipped his head low, "You better stop rejecting me, _Marco,"_ he hissed out the commander's name lasciviously, and the sound of his voice send a shiver down Ace's spine. An unpleasant shiver, "If you just accepted my feelings the first time, then i wouldn't have to do this, but you liked it, didn't you?" There was a disgusting, ugly grin on the man's face, and he leaned down, until there was barely any space between his and Marco's "You liked it so much you have to open your legs for just about anyone in the whole goddamn ship, but not anymore,"

He lowered his head down to catch the commander's quivering lips in a slobbery kiss, the sound reverberated through the walls.

Ace's vision turned red, and throughout his body, his fire burned as hotly as his anger.

In a single leap, he pounced on to the bed, flaming fist striking the crew member head first. There was a crack underneath his knuckle, but it didn't deter him the slightest from using both hands to gripping the screaming man's head and slamming it to the nearest surface he could find - the wall. Ace roared, teeth gnashing every time he gathered the stamina to ram skull against wood, ignoring both the cracking noise of wood giving out under his violent ministration and that the man has stopped screaming in a while.

He only stopped, in fact, when the hard skull in his hand had become mush and brittle from his fire, the moment he heard a soft, choked sound coming from his side.

Like doused with sea water, every lick of flame on Ace's skin dissipated into smoke. He snapped his head to the side, all thoughts flying out of his mind except for Marco.

Marco, who has curled into himself, bloodshot and tear stricken eyes hollow and his lips, pale blue and glistening with saliva uttering quietly over and over what Ace hadn't been able to hear, but now that he could sent devastation to the pit of his stomach with every whispered word, repeated over and over, "Please, stop this, no more,"

Thatch's story came back into Ace's mind with the crashing intensity of a storm, "Marco!" the logia cried out, throwing the hefty bulk in his hold away as he swiftly turned and cradled the older man's half naked body, staining fair skin and golden tresses with the blood that had stained his own hands, "He's gone, he's gone, Marco, he's gone! You're save now!"

But the blond hardly reacted. His eyes remained vacant as he continues to pitifully murmur, "Please, stop this, no more,"

"What's going on?! What happened—" A loud bang from the direction of the entrance alerted Ace of newcomers, and he looked up to find Commanders Jozu and Vista storming through the door, followed by several other crew member behind them. Jozu came in first, and his stern appearance faded the moment he caught Ace's eyes, as well as the state of the room. His thin lips parted, eyes widening as they finally fell on to Marco's figure and though faint, the soft gasp he drew echoed in the silence.

"Alert Pops at once," he commanded tersely, "And call the nurses. We have an emergency in our hand,"

* * *

Yeah i gotta extend this thing because this supposed to be short fic suddenly became a giant. 2 chapters my ass, right?

Why did i do this to myself. I would like to apologize like, in general.


	3. Chapter 3

WARNING: Inaccuracies regarding medical and psychological terms, symptoms etc, some may be exaggerated for fiction purposes. Nothing about this fic is researched for more than about 2-3 websites, and even that is just to get a semblance of description of anything described here. Triggering topics (as it has been for the last 2 chapter), and possible dramatic exaggeration. Non-graphic sexual content on the very end too, just in case.

Removed the expected amount if chapter this fic will have because…

Yeah.

(But honestly, it'll prob be done in anyother 2 chap or so. Probably)

* * *

In Ace's opinion, everything about Marco had always been bright.

His skin was fair - fairer than Ace's, at least - and that's because he could never get a sunburn from his Devil Fruit. His hair is the colour of the purest gold, and should he stand just in the right light, they looked like they shimmer. Ace would know, he spent too much time these last months staring at them when he should be working with the other deckhands to move cargoes and clean, but just a single peek of that bright tresses would render him useless. His wings, his fire, all of them were dazzling, but he supposed coming back to the angel comparison he once made for the zoan, it was fitting.

But this, none of this was right.

Marco's skin wasn't fair, it was pale to the point of it being ashen. Underneath the harsh light in the infirmary and over the bleached white sheets on the cot, he looked far too sickly and frail for one of New World's strongest men. Despite the number of nurses who kept moving back and forth to tend to him and put him down to a medication induced slumber, no one had given a thought to wipe the drying tear tracks on Marco's cheeks.

He wanted to reach over to do it, but he couldn't. He's been banished to this corner as to not obstruct the nurses' way, and even if he wasn't he can't find it in himself to move.

A hand gently tapping his shoulder made him actually jump, and that spoke of how deep in his thought he was. Ace snapped his head up to find himself staring to the solemn eyes of Commander Jozu, who glanced away towards the bed and the nurses, "They're not done yet?" the paramecia questioned, his rough voice barely a murmur.

Swallowing, Ace shook his head, "I think they're checking for… something. I don't know, i don't think i should ask now,"

Just as he said that, one of the nurses standing by the end of the bed turned her gaze towards them. She gave both Ace and Jozu a terse nod before she walked over and pulled the curtains around the cot close, effectively blocking their view of Marco. He didn't know what that means, but as soon as he lose sight of the blond, the logia let out a shuddering breath, and felt a deep, clawing concern wrecking the insides of his stomach.

"He's in good hands," Jozu said again next to him, "They'll know what to do, and they'll make sure to do their very best,"

They should, these nurses are trained in medical expertise and for any sort of emergency situation. And above that, they are tending to their own division commander after all.

Yet, the torturous grip in Ace's stomach persist.

When the hand on his shoulder started to move away, he found himself calling out, "Commander Jozu?"

The man stopped on his tracks, patiently waiting as the younger pirate gathered his thoughts and picked his words, "That man," he spat out finally, expression marred with a deep repulsed frown, "The guy who…," held down, threatened, forcefully kissed, assaulted— who would've— And after what had been done to him 15 years ago— had Ace had been a couple of seconds too late, if he hadn't gathered his nerves earlier - oh god, his stomach is twisting now - what if he hadn't thought of coming again to apologize, if he had agreed with the side of his mind that told him to wait— " _Attacked_ M— Commander Marco earlier, he's dead, isn't he?"

Jozu narrowed his eyes, lips tight as he slowly nodded, "Painfully. It took us a while to identify him when half of his face was melted and the other half's bashed in,"

Despite himself, there was a sick sense of satisfaction blooming in the turmoil in the logia's core, and he curled his fist, his now clean fist that was previously littered and drenched in blood. But it didn't last long, not when in the back of his mind, he still felt Marco's trembling body, he could still hear those broken whispers, he could still remember the hollow gaze in those blue orbs, "I killed him," to stop him but it was still too late. He still held Marco down, he still hurt him in some way, he made him look so terrified, he still caused _those tears to spill and that would haunt Ace in his deepest sleep,_ "Will i be in trouble? For killing a _nakama_?"

He could be banished for this, after only joining for a few months. After being accepted into a new family. After finding Pops, who doesn't care for his bloodline, who laughs at his confession and still calls him son.

He could be killed for this.

Why does it all feel so insignificant?

But Jozu scoffed, and it sounded disdainful, "That man stopped being one the moment he assaulted one of our own, his commander no less," a faint smile appear on his thin lips, "So, as far as we're concerned, you're a fucking hero, kid,"

It was a praise, and yet the tears that welled in Ace's eyes weren't of joy or sense of accomplishment, it was full of anguish.

"I don't feel like one at all, Commander,"

* * *

Even in his sleep, Marco doesn't look peaceful. A deep frown marred his visage, small, miserable moans would escape his half parted lips, and still, no one has wiped away the tear tracks down his cheeks.

Why hadn't anyone done it?

"You feeling better now?" he heard said from across the bed, breaking Ace's reverie, and he looked up to see Jozu with his arms crossed, standing guard by the head of the bed. He had one hand clutching the infirmary bed's headboard tightly, knuckles turning white by just how intensely he gripped them. He looked equally as tired as Ace felt, but his voice was firm, and there was traces of concern in them.

Ace nodded, feeling rather bashful in reminder of what the older Devil Fruit user was talking about, "Yeah, i'm sorry about that," he said, sniffling, "I didn't know why i suddenly cried like that,"

Jozu nodded, exhaling heavily, "Don't be. You were in shock. It happened,"

"What do i have to be shocked for?" the logia scoffed, the hands on his lap curling tightly, "I'm not the one who was…,"

He fell silent, and his gaze slowly returned towards Marco, as the zoan let out another soft moan, his frown deepening. He looked like he's in pain, and unlike before, the cause of it is not something Ace can grab and bash against the wall from him.

From the corner of his periphery, he saw Jozu lowering his hand from the headboard and placing them on top of Marco's golden tresses, carding his calloused hand through them and gently caressing the side of his fellow commander's face. It was a move that spoke of affection and seems to held deeper meaning, and it reminded Ace of Thatch's story. That's right, he mentioned that Jozu had been one of the people who broke the rule. That he was one of the people who fell for, yet in the end gave up on Marco.

Like this, his eyes shone with sadness, and the younger wondered if he also regretted it as much as Thatch did.

His hand still remained where it is as he looked up, "It doesn't have to happen to you for it to leave a lasting impression," the diamond paramecia said gravely, and somehow, Ace felt like he spoke out of personal experience.

Silence descended upon them once more. Jozu's hand never quite left Marco, his thumb wiping gingerly underneath the blond commander's eye, before he let out a hefty sigh, "I," he muttered suddenly, voice low enough that Ace missed the fact that he even spoke in the first place, "Maybe what i'm saying won't make sense to you, but, Ace, what you did today…," Jozu trailed off again, sorrowful gaze still trained on to Marco, "What you did today meant much more than you think it did. If you hadn't been there," the hand on the zoan's cheek curled tighter, and before the older man bowed his head, Ace caught sight of that stray tear falling and landing to the bed, "He doesn't deserve that. Not again. Not in his own home,"

And suddenly, that revelation brought another onslaught of wretched twisting in Ace's stomach. Moby Dick is Marco's home, where his family and father is, a safe haven. And it wasn't just his own home, it was in his bedroom where he was assaulted, his sanctuary where he hid from Ace, hid from the world, and it is also where he was again forced to relive the darkest moments of his life.

Suddenly, what Ace had done doesn't seem _enough._

"I know," he said quietly, teeth gritting and nails digging into flesh, "I know," Jozu eyes were wide when he lifted his head, shocked and a slightest bit irate. It made sense that he doesn't want people knowing, but Ace met his gaze evenly, "I wish i could've done more,"

The paramecia's expression melted, and one that occupied that stern face was now simple exhaustion, "Nothing good came out of that line of thinking," he muttered again, and with one last caress to the side of Marco's face, Jozu finally lifted his hand away. His chest heaved heavily before he slowly look up, his steely blue orbs meeting Ace's stormy grey ones, "If you… knew, then you should know to listen to me. There's no place for that kind of saviour complex in this sort of situation, and Marco neither needs it nor would he wanted it,"

Jozu closed his eyes and made his way out from the side of the bed, his movement slow and burdened. He stopped by Ace's side, and raised a hand to clap them on top of the youth's shoulder, "You did what none of us could 15 years ago. If you want to avoid the mistake everyone else does, you throw that thought away and did something none of us did,"

"And what's that?"

"You wait," The hand on his shoulder tightened, "You can have his body but not his heart. It's a stupid rule, but it's true. You don't ask for his heart, you wait until he gave it to you, in his own terms and his own pace,"

Ace's reply was silence.

His shoulder was patted a few more times as the elder Devil Fruit user chuckled deeply, "Sorry. I shouldn't be putting that much responsibility on your shoulder. You did good by him, and by extension to everyone on board," he gave one final pat, heavy and warm, "I guess i thought i saw something there for a second. Something in your eyes, that reminded me of… Hmph, that's not important. In any case, you don't have to worry about anything else—"

"Is that how you broke it? By not waiting?"

Jozu's hand stilled, and his expression was frozen as Ace looked up to him, lips tightly pursed. There's a new sensation within him core, something burning, yearning, and it pushed him to speak, "I don't want to make the same mistake you, Thatch, or anyone else did," it was brazen of him to speak like that, he knew, but Ace never had a problem with being brazen. Not when he knew, deep down, he truly wanted something. And he wanted this. He wanted to know the way to play by that rule, by Marco's rule, "I'm not good at being patient, but if waiting is what i have to do, then i'll do it,"

The hand on his shoulder loosened. Then seconds later it tightened again, much more than before, "You do that," Jozu told him in an almost commanding tone, before the commander began to walk away. Ace watched as he go until he disappeared from behind the oaken door of the infirmary.

Once the door was closed, Ace adjusted himself on his seat, dragging it closer to the bed and sat ramrod straight. He fidgeted on his seat, then finally made up his mind and reached over with one hand towards Marco's face, careful as not to disturb the man's rests.

With his thumb, he slowly wiped away the drying wet marks down that pale face.

* * *

Not a lot of things can woke Ace up once he's deep in slumber, yet he could register what seems to be the thumping sound of something heavy dropping nearby, and that faint noise prickled his ears so much that it brought him back to the land of consciousness.

Barely alarmed, the dark haired male began to blink away the bleariness out of his vision, and even through the veil of darkness, he quickly noticed that he's not back in his room. Instead of seeing 2 different hammocks with his crew mates snoring and tossing around on them, he could see the silhouette of a large medicine cabinet on the far side of the room, a window that he shouldn't be able to see had he been in his barrack, and more importantly, another bed just a few feet away from the one he's laying on.

Ah, that's right, one of the nurses had found him still staying in the infirmary way past midnight, and after he insisted on not leaving Marco's side, she had relented and agreed to let him sleep in the cot next to the commander's. She didn't really want anyone but the patrolling nurses to be so up close with him, the nurse had warned, but she recognized who Ace was and what he had done, and thus felt like if it's him, it should be alright since he can't possibly want to harm Marco even further. The warning in her tone was not remiss from Ace, but at that point, he was just glad that he's allowed to stay.

But even with that recollection, that doesn't explain what exactly it is that he heard that had woken him up—

The bed right next to his, Marco's bed, was empty.

As if jolted by electricity, Ace leapt out of the bed, ignoring that his motion had caused the bed to creak loudly against the floorboard, "Marco!" he called out frantically, giving the tussled bed sheet another concerned glance before he lit his entire upper right arm on fire to illuminate his vision as he searched wildly from corner to corner, trying to catch the barest glimpse of gold somewhere in the dark. When there was none, Ace was ready to quickly dashed away to the door, shouting for anyone currently awake to alert them when he heard a faint gasping noise from right behind the bed.

His heart thumped rapidly in his chest, but they quickly died down and rose up again in intensity as he raced to the side of the bed and found Marco, body half sprawled on the floor with his front being propped up by his shaking arms. Instantly, Ace knelt down in front of him, both arms ready to reach over and helped the older man up when Marco suddenly let out a sharp gasp, "Don't," his voice quivered and was barely a whisper, that Ace was instead stopped when he saw the zoan's body flinched away from his touch instead of by his plea, "Don't touch me,"

Ace gulped, his arms still hovering just inches away from the older just in case he collapsed, "Marco," he called out softly, unable to find it in him to speak louder, as if fearing that if he should, he might actually hurt him, "I'm just going to help you get back up—"

"I can't,"

The logia fell into uncertain silence, "What?" he whispered again, "What do you mean, 'you can't'?"

With a sharp gasp, Marco lifted his head, and Ace's heart fell at how frightened the zoan looked, "My legs," he panted, "I can't feel my legs,"

* * *

"His legs were crushed," Nurse Cotton's voice was detached from any apparent emotion, and yet from underneath the curtain of long, dirty blonde hair, Ace could still see the curl on her painted lips, and the visible distress in her eyes, a cross between anger and desperation, "They didn't just fractured the bones, they would've broken it to pieces, making sure to completely immobilize him. He would've lost every feeling there was on those nerves,"

She said this lowly, her explanation only for herself - and Ace, who was close enough to hear - even as her eyes kept flicking to the other bed, where Marco was now laid again, facing the other way from them.

"But that was 15 years ago, and he healed afterwards, right?"

Nurse Cotton's stern glare was a reminiscence of Jozu's, when he discovered that Ace had known of that particular brutal incident. Instead of just surprise and disapproval, however, the head nurse looked particularly displeased, her lips curling into a sneer, as if Ace, someone who wasn't there and thus wasn't involved even remotely knowing was a big transgression in her book. He might be unfamiliar with her - being a logia doesn't really give him many chance to get so injured he needs to go to the infirmary - but he knows she was one of the 'old hands' within the ship. She would have been around 15 years ago, maybe she might have been the nurse who had to handle Marco then and saw him at his absolutely worse.

Thinking about it like that, it made sense why she's looking at him with so much contempt. Maybe that glare is not even directed at him.

Her expression slowly melted away into dismay, and she took a deep breath before nodding curtly, "Physically, it healed, it always does with Commander Marco. No, the pain stemmed from his mental state," her fingers rapidly tapped on the clipboard in her hand absentmindedly, "This is what they call a psychosomatic injury. If his initial reaction was anything to go by, then last night had triggered his dissociation again and with it, well, the stress that it puts on him,"

Ace felt his breath caught in his throat. His mind went back to what he had seen in Marco's room, right before he let his anger consumed him, and remembered the way the zoan's flame flickered around his legs uncontrollably, failing to be summoned and to protect. If that truly was the moment this... dissociation began to settle, knowing that he was witnessing the very moment it happened sent a chill down Ace's spine.

The heels Nurse Cotton wore was rather infamous between infirmary patients; the sharp clicking against hollow wood echoing like a warning for them to know when the stern blonde is quickly approaching them to administer a treatment. Yet, as she made her way to Marco's bed, the sound was oddly absent, in its place only a soft thudding, not a forceful and demanding presence like the nurse herself but quiet and almost hesitant. Ace barely even notice when she arrived by the other side of the cot, bowing down slightly as she called out gently, "Commander?"

From where he sat, Ace could see Marco reacting weakly, turning to face the nurse even if the gesture was barely there. Nurse Cotton smiled, and as much as it is comforting, it was also melancholic, an odd cross between motherly and grieving, "I need to do a quick check up, may i touch you?"

It took a while for Marco to reply with a barely there shake of his head, and through the entire time, Nurse Cotton remained patient. Still, Ace caught the way her eyes dimmed at his rejection, something that she quickly chased away, "Alright, then i won't. It can wait until later," the blonde moved away just a little, just a few feet from the bed and to the bedside table, "May i tidy thing up a little though? Just in case you need anything, Commander,"

At Marco's barely there acknowledgement, she began to busy herself with placing a glass of water and putting on the bedside table what seems to be a collection of medical equipments, all the while keeping the same distance away. Her moves were deliberate, obvious and nothing too quickly, and quietly, she would murmur brief explanation of what she is intending to do and a mundane explanation about any future examination she might need to do, her chatter was the only sound within the echoing infirmary walls. Ace found this one sided interaction to be a somewhat bland recreation of her usual conversation with the commander and he watched every single second of it with rapt attention.

And it's caused by this close observation that the logia caught how Nurse Cotton's face fell the moment she was far enough from the bed, her lower lips pinched and eyes fluttering close just as a glimmer of wetness appeared over her moss green orbs.

Thatch, Jozu and now Nurse Cotton. None of these people Ace would associate with being emotional, and yet it's obvious just how much what had happened to Marco, whether it was 15 years ago or last night had affected them greatly. Was this what Jozu meant, about an indirect a lasting impression?

Once the door of the infirmary was clicked close, Ace slid down from the edge of the bed where he was perched on and made a tentative move towards the other bed. By now, the sky outside was no longer pitch black, showing that it won't be a few hours before dawn arrives. Still, it's a few more hours for him to sleep, but somehow, he doesn't feel anywhere near sleepy anymore. Every single nerves in his body was thrumming in alertness, still agitated to the point of restlessness.

He made his way to the foot of the bed, awkward hands fidgeting behind his back as he sat down on the corner of the mattress. With a quiet sigh, Ace took a surreptitious glance over to Marco.

It's hard to even tell if the commander was still awake, his eyelids not even half lidded anymore but barely opened, and what little peek of his eyes the logia could see was glazed and far away. He's calm, so that's one thing that he could be relieved about, and yet there is still a part of Ace that's worried where the older man's mind has wandered to, if it's anywhere safe or if this quietness is actually something he needs to be concerned for. Cotton hadn't said anything after she left, but even the fact doesn't tamper down his jumbled mind.

Ace was never been this lost or hesitant of a situation before. It's so… discontenting.

Then, as Ace bowed his back further to get a closer look, Marco suddenly flickered his gaze towards him. The younger man froze.

"Uh," was the first whisper that escaped him, a faltering weak noise that reeked of his own uncertainty. He bit his lower lips, "May i… Can i stay here?"

Marco didn't reply.

Even knowing that it's impossible, Ace still felt like something solid was forming in his throat, making it hard to swallow. His hands fidgeted even harder, "Right," the younger croaked, "I'll move away, sorry, i was just—"

"Stay," The speed in which Ace turned his head left him woozy for a split second. But he definitely hadn't imagined that quiet reply, when he saw Marco's lips moving again, faint as they were, "Please stay,"

Ace's hands paused. The nod he gave was stiff, and so was the smile that grew on his lips, but at least he managed to come up with a reaction of sorts.

No one spoke again afterwards, though whether it was because no one could think of what to say or that there is nothing else that needed to be said, the young logia couldn't tell, at least not from his end. With hands folded over his lap and even as his body began to ache from the stillness, he didn't move from his spot, eyes gazing out of the minimalistic window until the first ray of sunshine peers through into the empty room.

* * *

While the hammock in respective barracks could be uncomfortable on their own right, but after the 3rd day of staying in the infirmary, Ace found that the medical cots are within their own level of terrible. They're neither soft nor hard, the mattress so thin there is no different than sleeping on a slab of wood but with some semblance of padding that kept it away from complete hardness. And while the exam room is outside of the intensive care part of the infirmary - as in, the area where these beds were placed - the bitter, chemical smell of medicines that were kept there still wafted inside, and it gave him a nightmare about mistakenly eating a plate of pills instead of actual food just last night.

No wonder being sent down here felt like a punishment for the majority of the crew member.

And yet, despite his developing cramping back and obvious irritation, he still found himself staying there night after night. Nurse Cotton - the highest authority within the infirmary while Marco is 'indisposed' - had waved off the other nurses' questions about his frequent stay, and most of them had learned to simply took in his presence there normally. Not that many of them would venture to the very last section, since the head nurse seems to have assigned herself specifically to attend to their commander.

In fact, in the last 3 days Ace had been there, not a lot of people had come to visit. Jozu was probably the most frequent visitor, only closely rivalled by Vista, and he had seen Thatch coming by once in the middle of the night, when Marco was deeply asleep and Ace was only awake because someone had bumped against the cot he slept in. All of them had been quiet, solemn and sorrowful, and Marco himself didn't seem like he's in any mood to make any small talk.

Ace had thought of it as odd - and even slightly incensed because why wouldn't anyone had come down there to see him? To at least cheer him up? - until the lunch rush on the 4th day of his stay, where in the middle of picking up his lunch and Marco's, he was approached by his bunkmate and several new rookies and ex-Spade Pirates, "Hey, where've you been these past few days? We hardly saw you anywhere, cap," his ex-shipwright, Saber had asked, a question that was repeated in a number of variety by the other within the group, "Say, does it have something to do with that top secret incident that happened a few days ago? Literally no one even knew what happened, but they say no one had seen Commander Marco for days now and that you're involved as well. What's going on, Ace?"

The young logia paused from placing the offered plates - from a chef under 4th division instead of Thatch, because aside from that one night, he hadn't seen the commander around as well - and looked up, just as someone behind Saber spoke up, "It's so weird, and it seems like some of the Commanders were in the dark about this themselves. Commander Jiru told me he had no idea what's going on, and Yuta from the 16th Division said he overheard Commander Izou and Commander Thatch fighting in Commander Izou's quarters last night about it. Sounds like a lot of the veteran hands on board were covering for something, something that not even the newer commanders were privy about,"

"And they're pretty adamant on it too. Manfred from 1st Division looked like he was going to snap me in two when i asked last night,"

At the familiar name, Ace snapped his head towards the speaker, "Manfred is from 1st Division?"

The red haired pirate who spoke nodded, "You know him? Like Burgundy said earlier, he's one of the oldest crew members around. Been here for nearly 20 years, just like the rest of those secretive crew members,"

"Which is why we're here to ask," Saber piped up again, taking a closer step towards Ace before pulling his ex-captain into a playful headlock, "How come you're involved in this, Ace? Come on, share something with the rest of us, will you? Did something bad happen? Something dangerous? Or maybe something," he lowered his voice, leering, " _exciting_?"

They didn't know. No one knew of what had happened to Marco, and those who did had covered it up.

(And knowing that should have made him a lot more understanding of their questioning, yet Ace couldn't quite stop his flames to flare on his shoulder in anger at Saber's words, almost charring his ex-crewmate's arm if he had been slower in removing himself. Nothing was _exciting_ about _that night_ )

"Marco?"

The zoan carefully turn to look at him, his idle hands pausing briefly from pushing around the bits of rice on the plate. Even only a couple of days being confined in here, he already looked like he lose a lot of weight, his face gaunt and face still as ashen as it is when he was first brought here. Lethargic and quiet, nothing about the blond man on the bed was anything like man with the playful, laid-back attitude that Ace recognize as the Whitebeard Pirate's First Division Commander.

For the last 3 days, bits of Thatch's story would float into his mind, as it did right now. He described it as a 'phantom wearing his face', and he supposed it was rather fitting.

Ace tried to smile, but it felt forced even for him. He gestured to the tray he placed between them and the plate on the older man's lap, "The chefs told me that they're making fishtail soup for diner later, and to ask if you want extra serving since it's your favorite. What do you think?"

(In Thatch's absence, the chef who served him had been an older man, who told him to relay the message and afterwards asked about the commander's condition in a worried, whispered voice. Ace knew now that he must be another one of the pirates who had been here 15 years ago, just like every single silent people who passed by him today, watching from afar or coming up to him without saying anything. Each of them held the same haunted and defeated expression, and it wasn't until today that Ace knew why.

He had asked the old chef why he didn't come down and visit himself if he's actually concerned. The look on the man's face made him regret asking.

"I can't face him like this," he had replied, face crumpled and close to weeping openly, "We failed him again. We kept failing him,")

Slowly, Marco shook his head, "It's fine. I don't feel like eating," to emphasis on this, he puts his spoon down on the side of the cooling and no longer appetizing rice. There's only a minuscule dent made on the already small portion of food, a far cry from Ace's half finished mountain.

But the sight of it killed off the rest of the logia's appetite, "Oh. Okay, i'll… i'll tell him later,"

Putting aside his own unfinished plate on to the tray, Ace stood and was about to reach over for Marco's when he stopped himself with a quick jerk. The movement must've caught the older's attention when he turned, wanly staring at Ace's apprehensive expression when the younger devil fruit user reach back tentatively, "Can i pick that up?"

Wordlessly, the still full plate was handed back to him. While Ace busied himself with cleaning up, he surreptitiously watched as Marco shifted around, dragging himself upwards using both of his arms before leaning on the tall stack of pillows behind him. With a sharp inhale, the blonde balefully glared at his legs, and unknown to him, Ace followed his gaze.

('He could walk again, right?" he sounded afraid even in his own ears, but everything he had witnessed was so wrong. Marco's legs were powerful, he know just how painful it was to be kicked by them, how strong they would look no matter the form in just about any situation, whether he was fighting, walking or getting ready to take off in his Phoenix form. Like the man himself, they exudes power and grace, and they had to be alright, "I mean, he got better after 15 years ago, so he'll be fine, right?"

They shouldn't be lying so still underneath the bleached sheet, or fell so limply in Nurse Cotton's manicured hands.

Just like Marco, nothing about this picture was right.

"Psychosomatic injury is not as easily treated as a physical one, Ace," the head nurse had told him in patience. It took days for her to finally start treating him without curtness, and now she looked at him with a degree of pity and empathy. Perhaps, in the light of their equal concern over the same person, camaraderie, "The only way to make them go away is if he managed to deal with whatever it is that caused him mental distress, or find a way to help you cope with it," Her heavy bosom grew and lower with the heavy breath she took in, "Back then, he coped. He coped the only way he knew how,"

"How?"

The question was asked hastily in desperation, but if Ace had thought about it a second longer, he'd realized he already know the answer. And Nurse Cotton must've realized it too, when she gave him a humourless, hollow smile, "I think you know by now how he's being coping with himself for the last 15 years,")

"Ace,"

His own name being called made the logia jump. He stared down into tired, dull blue eyes and found himself stammering, "S-sorry! I didn't mean to stare, i—"

Ace's sputtered, clumsy excuse fell into a halt when a small smile made their way on Marco's lips, "Thank you for staying,"

The young pirate fell silent, feeling his heart leaping in his chest before they settled into hard, rib-pounding thuds. It's weird to react like so for such a small gesture, but the sense of relief that awash his entire being was overwhelming, and Ace found himself grinning widely.

(In that little gesture, he could see the briefest glimpse of the Marco he knew, the one who teased him upon finding him hiding and watching his sexual tryst, the same man who guided him into becoming a member of the Whitebeard Pirates, who told him with such a free smile and happy voice what a great man Pops is, if Ace just took his offer and now here he is, a part of a family again and maybe he had fallen since then, since that smile, since that steaming bowl of soup and an offered hand—)

"I-i well, uh, haha," the logia shuffled his left leg and rubbed his nape, feeling inexplicably happy, "It's, it's nothing. I'm… yeah," deciding that he really couldn't muster a single word for a proper reply, he shut his mouth with a resounding clack on his jaw. It may just be his imagination, but Ace was sure that he saw Marco smiling a little wider, and it did nothing to settle the fluttering in his chest, "Right! I should, i should bring this to the kitchen before they finished cleaning the other dishes. Do you need anything else? Want some other food maybe? I could—"

Marco shook his head, smile still in place, "Right," Ace squeaked again, almost toppling over in his enthusiasm to lift up the tray, "I'll be right back!"

And he was off, fully aware of the pair of eyes watching his retreating back and with a skip on his step.

* * *

"You're involved in this frustrating little shenanigan, aren't you?"

The lilting, accusatory voice greeted him in lieu of anything else, and Ace stopped on his tracks just outside of the dining hall to be met with an irate looking Commander Izou. The _okama_ 's painted lips were pulled down in a stern frown, and each step he took gave out a menacing clicking upon the floor until he reached just a few centimetre away from Ace, "No one will tell me what's going on, so now as your commander, i'm _commanding_ you to tell me what's going on. What's with all the sneaking and secrecy? What happened a few days ago? Who killed Kingdew's division member?" the front lapel of Ace's shirt was pulled with a jerk, powerful enough that the logia could hear a resounding rip from the seams, "What the fuck happened to Marco?!"

Izou was hardly taller than him, and compared to Ace, his build was much more slender, but the hysteric urgency in his voice made it clear that he won't let Ace go that easily. And it didn't help that when Ace kept his silence - mostly because he was still startled by this sudden confrontation - with a growl, the 16th Division Commander reached into his kimono and pulled out one of his pistols, shoving the cold barrel right underneath the logia's jaw, "I'll have you know i come equipped with seastone bullet, so you _don't want_ to test me. Speak, Ace! That is an order!"

"Izou!"

The weight against him suddenly disappear, the suddenness of the flurry of events making him stumble and would've fallen if it wasn't for the strong hand that held on to his bicep.

With a sharp breath, Ace adjusted himself, finding Thatch right in between him and the furious Commander Izou. He took a step to the side to regain his balance, and that step allowed him to get a better look at Thatch's reddening face, teeth gritted and brows furrowed deeply. The chef glanced at him briefly, as if only checking if he's alright, before turning back to his fellow commander, "The fuck are you doing turning your weapon on a rookie!?"

"No one will answer me!" the gunslinger screeched before Thatch could even finish, "My own fucking men won't talk, you're more slippery then an eel and even Pops commanded us to stand down! All i wanted was to know what happened to my own brother!"

At his last word, Izou aimed his glare back to Ace, who staggered backward at the weight and aggressiveness in that single look. Said glare was immediately blocked when Thatch moved to the side, blocking Ace away from Izou. He turned his head to the side, showing the grim line of his lips as he gestured with his chin, "Go, Ace, you need to be somewhere, don't you?" he said stiffly, before facing the irate man once more, "You said it yourself, you have your orders, Izou,"

Ace gave the pair one last glance and gone for a mini sprint by the time Izou shouted his reply, "Fuck the orders! If something happened to one of my _nakama_ i deserve to know!"

"And i already told you, not now,"

"Then when?! Because if you think the rest of us didn't know that something is going on with Marco, then you are insanely obtuse and selfish!"

"Selfish?! This is me trying to protect my own brother!"

"From what! The rest of his brothers?! Those who are worried for him?!"

Thatch's reply was muffled by the distance and the rising noises full of curiousity coming from different directions within the hall. The medical wing was nearly empty by the time Ace arrived, with only a couple of nurses flitting by around who paid him no mind. Which is a good thing, because he wasn't really in the talkative mood, his mind still reeling over the event earlier as he trudged over to the door located on the very back of the wing, where the intensive care unit was located.

What Izou had said made sense, but then Ace had been in his position before, a curiosity blooming from concern for someone he cared about. But at the same time, after knowing the full story - and after actually witnessing what had happened recently - he also understand Thatch's reluctance in _not_ letting people know. Everything about what had happened to Marco, whether it was a couple of days ago or years before felt like a situation that no one truly knows the right answer or the right way to handle.

At least, Ace certainly knows he didn't.

Sighing, the logia was about the push the door open when he caught the sliver end of a conversation, "—can't go on like this,"

The door was only opened by a fraction, but even in that little space, Ace could still see the shadow of another person sitting by Marco's bed on the very end of the room. After a while, the person gave a sigh and spoke, allowing Ace to recognize him immediately; Commander Vista, "It's not that simple. I," he paused with another heavy sigh, and from where he stood, Ace could hear the bed creaking, "I can't do that anymore. Not to you, or myself,"

"Please, Vista, I can't go through that again," Marco's voice was desperate, begging, "I, i don't need another—Another…," Ace could hear him let out a shuddering breath, "I can't have this develop into another _trauma,_ "

Another bout of silence. The shadow on cot in front of the blonde zoan shifted, and as Ace peered in, he saw that Vista had taken off his ever-present top hat, tossing it carelessly somewhere off from his sight. He then heard the sound of zipper, and it finally registered to him just what Marco was asking Vista to do. A uncomfortable lump formed in his throat, and the logia's grip on the door handle tightened considerably, so much that his knuckle began to turn white.

The cot creaked again under Vista's weight, "What about Ace?"

Hearing his name being mentioned sent a dread down the logia's chest, thinking that he had been discovered, until Marco spoke, "Ace? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Come on Marco, you know what i meant," the dark haired swordsman murmured, "That kid's not very subtle. I don't want to sound like i'm throwing him over to save myself, but you know if he asked him, he would do this for you. "

The door he leaned on creaked when Ace accidentally pushed it further and made him wince, hoping that the noise won't be noticed by the bed's inhabitants. But all thoughts of getting caught flew out of his mind when he heard Marco's whispered reply, "Exactly, that's why of all the people on this ship, he's the one that i can't ask for this,"

Ace's grip on the door handle slackened.

A harsh laugh escaped the blond commander, followed by what suspiciously sounded like a sob, "He's… he's so young, Vista. Still so wide eyed, idealistic, so… so innocent, as innocent as you can be in this sort of life. He deserved much more than some," the shadow on the end of the bed waved an arm, and contempt began to seep into his voice, hissing his every word, "Pathetic, disgusting, tainted, used old whore—"

"Marco!"

" _Tell me that's not true_ , _Vista,_ " the rebuke was met with an even louder, choked hiss, "Tell me to my face that you don't look at me and not feel disgusted by what i've become,"

"I don't,"

The reply came after a few seconds had passed. Vista's voice had lost its earlier fire, becoming frail and whispered.

"Well, i do," Another laugh came from Marco, breathy and mocking, "And i know a lot of people do. I don't know what is it exactly that he wanted from me - or why he even wanted anything from me - but i know that he, like everyone else, will see that i'm not worth it. There is nothing to find here but filth and a broken human being, and none of that is worth anything," the blond gave another choked laugh, absent of any humour, "After all Ace has done for me, the least i can do is to.. to not _tarnish_ him. He's so pure, Vista. So innocent. I felt horrible putting my hands anywhere near him before, it's like i'm already smearing him with my filth, like i'm… like i'm no better than those men who…,"

Marco's choked sob was shushed and muffled by Vista's indistinct murmurs. Murmurs that were slowly replaced by the sound of wet kisses against skin, and as the shadow on the far corner of the room began to mingle together, has become breathy moans and whispered sighs, sounds that by now, Ace was all too familiar with. In a second of bad decision, disregarding the twisting inside of his stomach, Ace looked further into the room, to see Vista shucking off his tight shirt and tossing it just as carelessly as he did his hat earlier, his mouth still connected to Marco's neck and exposed collarbone.

The moustached swordsman raised his head, and leaned in to the zoan's parted lips before the blond turned away at the last second, an obvious rejection. If Vista was hurt by this, he didn't show it, but he nodded resignedly and instead, pressed a kiss to the side of Marco's temple, "Lay down. If i'm going to go back on my own words like this, at the very least, i will make sure you're actually comfortable,"

A weak snort was heard from the smaller commander, but he did as told, using his arms and Vista's guidance again to gently lower himself on the bed.

It was at that point that Ace closed the door, and as soon as he did, he slumped against the wooden surface and slid down to the floor.

His stomach was twisting, churning unpleasantly, and there's a stabbing pain in his chest, as if someone had punched through him. They had culminated since Marco started talking about him, and the more he heard the rustling and moans from inside, the more painful the throbbing within his chest had become. Unlike before, he's not tempted to take a peek and stay while he found release himself. At the hitched cry for Vista's name, he's not imagining Marco in throes of pleasure. With every frequent reminder of what's happening inside, Marco's words kept ringing in his mind, and the unpleasant sensation in his stomach grew and grew.

He knows what arousal felt like by now. This isn't it.

This churning in his stomach felt like distress, anger, frustration, shock, and the need to object every single thing he just heard, all of them stirring into a jumbled mess within his core.

Another moan penetrated the thick wooden door, a voice he knew so well in his mind. There's a dull thud in his chest, aggravating the already festering pain and made him ball his hands tightly, as licks of fire began to appear on the surface of his skin.

That felt a lot like jealousy.

* * *

Sorry for the long period of no update too, i've been lying uselessly sick at home. Not feeling 100% yet, but at least i don't feel like puking my guts out or falling asleep at any given moment.

Welp, anyway, thanks for reading!


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